Act of War
by Cheezey
Summary: Follow up to The New Order. The line in the sand is drawn and Pollux is caught in the crossfire when Lotor strikes in retaliation on Allura's behalf, testing the limits of trust, friendship, and love of all involved.
1. Chapter 1

_**Act of War**_  
**Part One  
By Cheezey**

"Prince Bandor!" Sven shouted in an agitated voice as he burst into the room with Princess Romelle at his side. The former Voltron pilot and head of Castle Pollux's security had rushed to the battle station as soon as he had heard that there was a Doom ship near the castle.

Romelle then said before her brother even had a chance to answer Sven, "What happened? We came as fast as we could—"

"It was Lotor," Bandor replied and turned to face his sister and Sven, his freckled young face flushed nearly as red as his hair.

"Lotor attacked," Sven said as an uneasy feeling settled over him. He, Romelle, and Bandor had all heard the troubling accounts of how Princess Allura had married Lotor at Galaxy Garrison and entered into some seemingly insane alliance with Doom that had left the Voltron force dismantled, first through rumor, then through direct confirmation from Coran and finally from the remaining members of the Voltron Force that had turned up not long before on their doorstep seeking sanctuary. And although he did not agree with Allura's decisions and was upset with how they affected those he cared about, neither he nor Romelle—who had spent much time mulling the situation over together—wanted to think that Allura's consideration for Lotor could extend to her condoning attacks on her friends.

The news affected Romelle the same way, and the Polluxian princess closed her eyes. "So I guess things aren't…"

Bandor's hand balled into a tighter fist. "No. Nothing's changed." His voice took on a harder, more emotional edge. Bandor had felt similarly to his sister and Sven about the situation with Allura, although his young age and temperament led his temper to flare faster and burn hotter than Sven's, especially after what had just happened with Lotor coming to Pollux with her at his side, demanding the surrender of the red lion. "Except Allura. She was with him."

"Allura!" Romelle's mind reeled with the implications.

Sven's voice also rose in alarm. "And you fired on her?" Regardless of what foolish, in his opinion, decisions that Allura had made, the notion of firing on her was unthinkable to him.

"I fired on Lotor," the agitated Bandor retorted. "You think he was here to make friends? They demanded we give them the red lion or else. And I won't do that!"

Romelle's insides churned as the reality of her brother's words sank in. Allura really _was_ allied with Lotor, she really _did _intend to keep all the lions, and while Romelle desperately wanted to believe that Allura would never give them to the wicked prince that she had married, she had no faith that Lotor would not find whatever way he could to get his hands on them anyway. Angry tears formed in Romelle's blue eyes. She was not as objective or sympathetic as Sven about the situation to begin with, and while she did not believe Allura was the type of person that would turn on those she loved so coldly and quickly, it was still impossible for her to understand why anyone, even someone as kind-hearted as her cousin, could think that a cruel and duplicitous man like Lotor was worth five seconds of civil conversation, let alone all that Allura had done for him. Romelle was not too proud to admit that she hated Lotor with every fiber of her being after all he had put her, Sven, her family, her friends, her world, and countless others through, and much like Bandor she was apt to think that anyone that would willingly aid someone like Lotor in his quest for power had to either be mad or just like him. That left her at a loss when it came to Allura, who she had come to love as family over the past few years. On one hand she felt utterly betrayed by Allura's actions, but on the other she could not bear to think that she could have been so wrong about Allura, that there had to be a misunderstanding somewhere. The conflict was consuming and nearly unbearable.

"What did she say?" Romelle grasped Sven's forearm, more for emotional support than anything else. "I hate what she did just as much as you, but to open fire…"

"Lotor was threatening us, demanding we give him Lance's lion, and I told him to stuff it. Allura was right there with him." Bandor's scowl grew deeper. "I don't care if the lions are Arus' or not, as far as I'm concerned the Voltron Lions belong to the Voltron Force, and there's no way in the galaxy I'll ever just hand a piece of Voltron over to Lotor so he can attack our people and whoever else he thinks is easy pickings."

"You didn't have to fire at her," Romelle said, and then looked at the screen uncertainly as a terrible thought occurred to her. "Or did she fire at us first?"

"Allura didn't fire," Bandor told them. "But you and I both know Lotor would've; why else would he have shown up in a heavily armed battleship? And you know, Allura chose to be there with him. It's not like I wanted to fire at her, but if Lotor threatens us, I'm not going to take it lying down, whether she's there or not."

Sven ran his hand through his dark hair and sighed. "I don't think Princess Allura would ever take Lotor's side in attacking us."

"She was _there_, Sven. I saw her. Do you think I'd lie about that?"

Sven opened his mouth to answer, but another voice from the doorway answered before he could. "I don't."

The trio turned and saw Lance in the doorway with a cross look on his normally friendly face. Keith and Hunk stood behind him, the former wearing a troubled expression and the latter appearing uncharacteristically depressed.

"No Bandor, nobody thinks you're lying," Hunk assured him. "But Allura…"

"I fired at _Lotor_," Bandor asserted a final time, his patience worn through. "She's the one who decided to be with him. If that makes her a casualty…"

Although Keith had been silent up to that point, something in the former Voltron Force commander snapped when he heard Bandor admit to firing on a ship Allura was on and brushing the notion of her being harmed off as a casualty. The unresolved emotion pent up inside him came roiling to a head at once, and Keith lurched forward, fist swinging, at Bandor. "Casualty? That's Allura you're talking about!"

The outburst and subsequent blow caught everyone by surprise, including Bandor who fell back against the console in shock when Keith belted him. Romelle hollered for Keith to stop, while Hunk grabbed him and pulled him back and Sven stood between them, reaching to help Bandor regain his footing.

"Whoa! Keith!" Hunk exclaimed, while Keith himself only then realized what he had just done. While his adrenaline began to cool and he stared down at the first stunned and now angry Bandor, Keith noticed that he was still shaking, brimming with disgust—just as much at his own actions and loss of control as those that had driven him to strike the prince.

"I—I'm sorry." Although they were sincerely spoken, Keith was unable to find words to convey anything close to what he actually felt. He closed his eyes with rising shame; while he was certainly angry at the notion of Allura being hurt, his losing control would certainly not solve anything, especially when Bandor was not who he was truly upset with. "I shouldn't have done that."

Bandor glared back at Keith, arms folded across his chest. "I know you don't like it, but _someone _has to defend us if Voltron and his pilots don't." The young prince gritted his teeth and stared sourly at Keith until the former black lion pilot met his gaze again. "I didn't like doing it, you know."

"I know." Keith's voice was tinged with a weariness that seemed to have infected his very soul.

"Please, no more fighting," Romelle implored, also stepping between them. "We've all lost enough friends already."

Sighing, Hunk added, "And we need all the ones we can get, that's for sure."

Keith gave an understanding nod. "You're right. You need to be able to count on us—all of us."

Lance joined Sven and Bandor's side. "You all can count on me, no matter what."

"Me too," Hunk said. "We won't let Lotor run Pollux over, with or without the lions."

"Speaking of which," Keith turned toward Lance, "You know that's why Lotor came here to begin with. For the red lion."

Lance put up a hand. "I don't want to hear it, Keith. I really don't."

"Pollux doesn't want to be attacked, either."

"No shit," the red lion pilot retorted with heavy sarcasm. "But I'm sorry, I can't do it. I can't just hand the keys to the red lion to Lotor. I can't!"

Keith's frown deepened. "Do you think Hunk and Pidge wanted to either?"

"We sure as hell didn't," Hunk asserted. The mention of Pidge sent a fresh stab of resentment through him. He hated that Pidge had to stay behind in the Castle of Lions, and while he understood the reasons why it did not make it any easier to like the idea. He prayed that neither Lotor nor any of his cronies would try anything treacherous against his young friend when Allura's back was turned.

"They did it because they had to, because the lions belong to Arus and Allura. Not us."

Staring back at Keith with challenge burning in his eyes, Lance refused to yield to his friend's disapproval. "Yeah, okay. Well that's easy for you to say, seeing as Allura made your decision for you by taking the black lion on the sly and leaving it at Galaxy Garrison. Can you stand there and tell me you'd have had no issues turning it over? Knowing Lotor? Knowing what he'd do? You, Mr. Do-The-Right-Thing? _Really_?"

The way Lance had so bluntly phrased it made it hard for Keith to answer truthfully, just as Lance had known it would. Keith liked to think that he would have done as Hunk and Pidge had, and given the keys to Allura, accepting that they were Arus' property and hers as its ruler, trusting that she would never let Lotor use them to harm others. Keith knew that Hunk and Pidge both believed that Allura's heart was in the right place and that she had acted in what she thought was everyone's best interests, even though they themselves hated her choices. Keith wanted to believe the best about Allura as well, and he knew that under his anger Lance did too. He also understood that was why Lance was so angry, because he too had thought so highly of Allura, and her decisions had struck him as a betrayal. Lance was a more cynical man than Hunk or Pidge, and Keith fell somewhere in between. Therefore while he wanted to say without reservation that he would have done as Pidge and Hunk had and relinquished his key, just as he was insisting that Lance should do, it would have been a lie if he had tried to deny that on some level he was not relieved that his decision regarding the black lion had been made for him.

After a tellingly awkward silence, Keith finally answered, "It doesn't matter what I would've done. It's over."

"So I guess your conscience is clean then." Lance turned the red lion's key over in his hands. "Well if I give my lion to Lotor, mine won't be."

"I didn't give my lion to _Lotor_," Hunk interjected hotly, insulted at the insinuation that he and Pidge would have done so themselves. "I gave it to _Allura_. I know you're mad at her, and I don't blame you, but she's still Allura. She's still our friend, whether she was dumb enough to marry Lotor or not."

"And whether she means to be or not, as long as she's hitched to him, she's Lotor's puppet. You're dreaming if you think he'll actually respect her wishes about the lions," Lance shot back.

Hunk stepped forward, shaking his fist. "I trust my friends: Allura, Keith, Pidge, and you, even when you're talking out of your ass!"

Romelle choked back an audible sob at the harsh exchange, aching at the way she found herself agreeing with each of their points, even the conflicting ones. Sven put an arm around her shoulders, and Bandor stood at her side while Keith looked away into the distance, unable to refute what Lance had said. A terrible quiet fell over the room for a few moments, until Keith finally spoke again and ended it. "Do what you think is right, Lance," he said, and turned toward the door.

"What, you're not going to order me, Commander?" Lance replied, some of the edge gone from his voice, although a sarcastic lilt remained.

Keith looked over his shoulder. "Commander? What do I command?" he scoffed. "The Voltron Force doesn't exist anymore." Keith closed his eyes, mourning the demise of the team that had been so much a part of his life for so long. "Like I said, Lance, do what you can live with. Right now, I think that's all any of us can do." He took another step toward the door, but stopped and turned around before he went through. "I'm going to call Galaxy Garrison and ask for reinforcements to help out Pollux when Lotor attacks again—and he _will_ attack. He'll be back for that lion. When I do," he paused, and met each of his friends' eyes briefly but meaningfully before he resumed speaking, "I'm also going to ask for reassignment. What happened before hits a little too close to home for me, and I'm no good to anyone if I'm out of control."

As soon as he realized what Keith was saying, Hunk's eyes widened in alarm and he stepped toward his friend. "Aw, Keith, don't—"

"No Hunk," he cut him off. "I have to. I'll keep in touch. With all of you. I promise."

"Like you said," Sven said in somber resignation, "do what you think is right."

Lance gave a heavy sigh. "Take care, man."

Romelle went over to Keith and took his hands. "Please do keep in touch." Her eyes brimmed with yet unshed tears that she had been trying desperately to contain.

Bandor nodded in assertion with his sister. "You'll always be welcome here, Keith."

"Thanks. All of you." Keith gave his friends a sad but genuine smile and then departed without another word.

After Keith left, Hunk pounded his fist against the wall. "Damn it! Allura… Pidge… now Keith. What next?"

Looking down at the red lion key in his hand, Lance realized with regret that he would be providing the unpleasant answer to Hunk's rhetorical question. In making the decision that he could live with, it was clear to him now that too came with a price, one he did not particularly want to pay but one that he had no choice but to live with. He took a deep breath and went to Hunk's side, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "This is gonna sound like the punch line of some really bad joke, and I wish it was, but…"

Realization settled in before Lance could even finish his sentence. "Not you too."

"'Fraid so Hunk."

"But why?" Bandor asked. "We'll defend you and the red lion from Lotor or any creep from Doom that stops by, you know that! You're safe here."

"Yeah, I am, but what about you?" Lance said, looking at his friends with a mixture of concern and regret. "Keith was right. As long as the red lion and I are here, you're going to be targeted, and while the red lion's great in a fight, it's only a part of Voltron. Pollux will be safer without us on it. Lotor won't waste time attacking you when it's me and the red lion he's after." He forced a smile of halfhearted optimism. "And if Lotor and Zarkon's crew does show up, you can call on me if you need help."

That time Bandor was the one to bang his fist, and he did so sharply against the console. "This sucks! All our friends! It's just not fair."

"No, but we're all we've got," Sven agreed, and looked to Lance. "Be safe. Where will you go?"

"It's probably safer if I don't tell you." He tossed his key in the air in an effort of forced lightness and optimism that was as much to convince himself as it was for the benefit of his friends. "That and, well, I don't really know, but I'll figure something out."

"How can we contact you?" Romelle asked him. "If we radio the red lion it could be traced and we'd give you away. They'll be looking all over the galaxy for anything on a frequency matching the lions."

"Maybe I can help with that." Sven retrieved a radio from one of the shelves in the control room and handed it to Lance. "Back in our days as space explorers, before we came to Arus, we used to communicate on a specific frequency. You remember what one I mean, right?"

Lance nodded as he took the radio. "Sure do. I'll tune in as much as I can. I won't say much, though, because like Romelle said, we ought to not use it too much."

"Nah, definitely not," Hunk agreed.

"Pass it on to Keith too, and Pidge if you think it's safe to get a message to him." He glanced at Hunk as he spoke the last part.

Being reminded again that Pidge was somewhere unsafe was not pleasant, but Hunk did his best to brush it off while Sven answered for him.

"We will."

Hunk clapped Lance on the back supportively, even though it tore his heart to see the Voltron Force further splintered apart. "Watch yourself out there, Lance. We don't want to lose you for good."

Lance mustered a reassuring smile and flashed it to his friends with far more confidence than he actually felt. "Hey, I've still got my rabbit's foot somewhere. I'll be fine." Keeping a determined grip on the red lion's key with one hand, he waved goodbye with the other. "Good luck guys." With that he was gone, leaving Hunk, Sven, Romelle, and Bandor behind with heavier hearts.

Romelle turned toward Hunk and asked with a measure of dread, "You aren't next, are you?"

Much to her relief, as well as Sven and Bandor's, Hunk shook his head and offered the princess what he could muster of a smile. "Nah. As long as you'll have me, you're stuck with me."

"Glad to have you," Bandor replied.

"Luckily we're well stocked on all our food," Sven said with a wry, but also clearly relieved, expression.

"In that case, get me a sandwich," Hunk teased back, "especially since you've got a long way to go before you're anywhere as funny as Lance."

Sven's smirk widened, if only for a moment, enjoying the bit of levity that had permeated the otherwise somber mood. "Give me time."

* * *

In the battleship that carried the angry Lotor and distraught Allura away from Pollux, the prince sat restlessly in the command chair alone. Allura had fallen asleep an hour or so prior in his arms while he offered her comfort, but his simmering rage would allow him no such rest. There was no way that he, the crown prince of Doom, was going to let that whelp of a prince on Pollux to get away with what he had just done. He had expected Bandor and Romelle to take in the stray ex-members of the Voltron Force, but willfully harboring the red lion and his pilot, balking him, insulting him, _and_ having the gall to fire on him and Allura for going to take what she had rightful claim to? Oh no. Prince Bandor and Pollux would pay, and pay severely for that. Lotor would see to that, no matter what it took.

Shortly after Allura had drifted off, Lotor had changed his mind about taking Allura home to Arus first. The sooner he got back to Doom to set his retribution in motion, the better. There was no reason she could not be taken to Arus afterward if she insisted on it, and now that he had won at least a tenuous hold on her affections, Lotor did not like the idea of Allura being left alone on Arus without him any longer than necessary knowing that her friends there would likely try to poison her against him again given the chance.

Allura did not remain asleep long, however, and it seemed to Lotor that he had barely had the chance to properly indulge his fantasy of the various ways those on Pollux could meet a painful end when she interrupted his thoughts and joined his side.

"Lotor?"

"Allura," he said, smiling thinly at her. "I'd hoped you'd rest longer."

"It's hard to sleep on a ship. I'll feel better when I'm back on Arus." She looked over at the monitor, showing the open space that lay in front of them and approached the console. "How much longer until we get there?" When she looked down she noticed that their heading was not set for her home world, but instead for the heart of the Denubian, and she whirled around to face Lotor with an indignant expression. "What? Are we going back to Doom? You told me we were going to Arus—"

Lotor cut her off with a frown. "I don't think it's a good idea that we be separated very long just yet, Allura. We have a lot of enemies." _And mine will try to get to you without me around,_ he thought darkly, _and I won't have it._

"Arus is my home, Lotor," Allura insisted in a rising tone. "You and your father both agreed to that!" She glared at him with an accusing look in her blue eyes, causing his frown to wear deeper. "You lied to me."

"I didn't lie; I changed my mind. You have to understand, Allura, there's a lot at stake here." He stood and went to her side, countering her angry gaze with an intense look of his own. "This insult, what happened on Pollux, can _not_ be allowed to pass, Allura. You know that. They're testing us, testing you. They think they can get away with keeping the red lion from you because you were their friend, but I won't let them push me or you around." He softened his tone. "Allura, please understand. I'll take you to Arus soon, but I have to get back to Doom and get the forces we need to take the red lion back."

"But Lotor—"

"I'll see to it that Father doesn't order anything too… unreasonable," he assured her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I don't understand _why_, but I know you don't want to see your unworthy friends or any uninvolved people on planet Pollux hurt."

Allura sighed and turned away. "I don't. And I want to go home. Not to Doom."

That time it was Lotor who wanted to sigh, but all he did audibly was grumble a slight bit. It was a gamble that if he left Allura alone too long in the Castle of Lions that her friends would fill the time he was not there speaking ill of him to her and swaying her feelings, but on the other hand, he supposed that if he made the gesture of showing faith and trust in her, it might inspire the same in her regarding him. It also occurred to him that if Allura was not around for his planning of the grisly retribution he intended to see visited on Pollux, that would go much more smoothly and to his liking. Perhaps then, a brief parting could be to their benefit…

Lotor took Allura's hand in his and caressed it tenderly. "All right," he said, speaking in such a manner that made it seem as though he had reconsidered and compromised solely out of love for and as a favor to her. "I'll see to it that an escort fleet is ready to take you back to Arus as soon as we get back to Doom. But I can't delay getting back there myself, and I don't want to send you from this one now, alone in nothing but a scout ship."

As he had hoped, Allura was satisfied with that resolution and she relaxed visibly, although her lip still trembled with a small measure of apprehension. "They wouldn't hurt me or the others at the Castle of Lions. Hurt Pidge, Coran, Nanny? No."

"After what just happened, can you really be sure they wouldn't?" Lotor asked with a raised brow.

"Yes!" Allura asserted fervently. "I really don't think they would! It's not the same thing."

"For your sake, I hope you're right."

* * *

Lotor was true to his word, and when he and Allura arrived back at Doom a party greeted them as soon as they stepped off the ship. An entourage of robots was already assembled waiting to escort Allura to a battleship that would take her back to Arus, and Haggar, Cossack, and Merla were present in the bay as well. Not bothering with pleasantries, Lotor's first words as he disembarked were, "Where is Father?"

"The throne room," Haggar answered, brushing off the prince's rudeness since she was quite used to it. She cast Allura a curious look, but said nothing else while Merla stepped forward, eyes also on Allura.

"I see you're both unharmed; that's good, given what happened." Merla then added as a telepathic afterthought to Allura, _I'm sorry your friends attacked you that way. I know how that must have hurt you. _

"I'm fine," Allura answered in a flat and tired voice. As she looked at Merla she felt herself drawn into the queen's gaze, and Merla offered a sympathetic smile in return.

"Which is better than those upstarts on Pollux will be when we're through with them," Lotor fumed angrily. Without even acknowledging Merla, he turned to Cossack and began barking orders. "Ready three ships suitable for a planetside invasion, at least one with class one armor and extensive cargo space." It was technical wording for "hardy slave ship resistant to enemy fire, large enough to hold a Voltron lion," but Lotor knew better than to word it as such in front of Allura.

Cossack had no problem reading between the lines. "Gotcha, sire."

"Be ready to depart in no less than two hours; preferably one."

"No problem," the commander agreed.

Lotor then turned to Haggar. "See to it that we have a robeast suited for the mission." When Allura gasped at the mention of that, he added, "For defending ourselves, of course. It's Allura's wish that nobody innocent be harmed."

The old witch nodded. "Certainly, Prince Lotor. I have just what you need in mind. A very intelligent creature."

Lotor's brow rose. "Intelligent enough to actually follow orders, I hope?"

Haggar narrowed her eyes at the dig, but she did not otherwise respond to the insult. "It'll be obedient and easy to control. I'll see to that."

"Be sure you do, since Cossack and I will need to be able to handle it without you there," Lotor said. Haggar blinked, surprised to hear that she would not be going along, but before she had a chance to question it, Lotor added, "Then ready a beast or two to defend Arus with, seeing as you'll be escorting Allura home."

When she heard that, the anxious look on Allura's face intensified. She was not exactly afraid of Haggar, but she did not relish the idea of being left alone with her either.

Merla meanwhile eyed Lotor curiously. "Don't you think it'd be more sensible for Haggar to be there to control her beasts where you _know_ there'll be fighting instead of only a chance of it?"

"I think it's sensible for Allura to be protected!" Lotor snapped, furious at Merla's presumptuousness in undermining his orders in front of an audience.

Allura frowned, unimpressed. "I'm a big girl, Lotor. I can take care of myself."

Merla managing to successfully elicit a defensive reaction out of Allura—which Lotor knew was exactly she had intended—irritated Lotor to no end, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his temper under wraps. "Allura," he said, reminding himself that it was not his dear bride that he was angry with as he spoke, "it's an unfamiliar ship with robots that need someone who knows what they're doing supervising them. You're not experienced enough with our systems."

"You don't trust High Admiral Threen?" Merla interjected with seeming helpfulness, looking directly at Lotor as she spoke. "He's the one who assembled the escort fleet."

"I trust Haggar to understand my wishes," Lotor informed the queen icily. "And I need Cossack in my fleet, so I can't send him."

Merla gave a gentle nod of assent. "I see. But why not take both Cossack and Haggar with you, to make sure it's done right, with all of you there?" she suggested. "I can escort Allura to Arus. She and I get along fabulously, don't we Allura?" She joined the princess' side and flashed her a beaming smile.

Allura did not have a chance to answer before Lotor, now scowling in Merla's direction, stepped in between them. "And take you from Father's side during the honeymoon period? What a poor stepson I'd be if I allowed _that_." His acidic tone carried over into the glare he then shot toward Cossack and Haggar when he noticed that they were still standing there watching the interplay rather than seeing to his orders. "What are you two waiting for? You have orders."

"Yes Sire."

"Of course, my prince," Haggar echoed after Cossack, bowing in unison with him. The commander proceeded to the far end of the bay and began assembling the manpower and machinery needed for Lotor's mission, while Haggar boarded the nearby ship that had been designated to take Allura to Arus.

Merla straightened and stared back coldly at Lotor. "Have it your way, then," she said, and turned to Allura. "Sorry Allura dear, looks like it'll be you and Haggar after all. But don't worry, she's not all bad. A little unsociable, and her cat has dreadful shedding problems, but sometimes she's good for a laugh. And I'm sure she'll be happy to share some funny little tales about your husband's many and various _quirks_. Dishing about the dirt on the in-laws can be quite enlightening." She then gave a little wave and walked off, the spiky heels on her boots clicking against the floor as she exited.

"Arrogant woman," Lotor muttered at Merla's departing figure.

Allura studied Lotor's irritated countenance, which softened considerably when he turned and his eyes met hers. "You don't trust her," she said softly.

"No, and you shouldn't either." Lotor's response was quick, passionate, full of venom, and was it, Allura wondered, just a touch of fear?

"She's been kind to me," Allura assured him, and offered him a disarming and sympathetic look. "And you, in the past at least. She saved you from your father—"

Cutting her off, Lotor placed a firm hand on Allura's shoulder. "Merla's out for one person and one person only: Merla. Don't let her charms persuade you to think otherwise."

Allura's eyes widened ever so slightly as she looked up at him. "I've been told the same thing about you."

"And I told you I'll prove them wrong," Lotor assured her, squeezing the shoulder beneath his fingertips before he leaned closer. "But Merla doesn't have my motivation to gain your love. Please, promise me you won't trust her blindly, Allura." He looked intently into her eyes and went to kiss her, but she looked away before their lips could meet.

"I'd have a hard time doing that with anyone anymore," she replied honestly, sadness clouding her eyes.

Lotor pulled her into his arms. "I don't blame you. But as long as _I _have your trust, I'm happy... even if I do have to earn it."

She did not fight his embrace and instead only looked up at him, and in that moment Lotor saw the glimmer of faith that told him he had indeed earned the faintest beginnings of it. He vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to keep it, even though that emotional oath ran counter to the very mission he was about to lead when he left Doom. Lotor did not trouble himself with that dilemma, though, for in his mind they were two completely separate issues, and as long as Allura did not get involved he saw no conflict.

"Be safe, Lotor," Allura told him, giving him a light squeeze of a hug before breaking their embrace. "And remember what you promised. Don't hurt—"

"I'll take all measures necessary to avoid harming anyone, especially innocent citizens. Our goal is to get the lion back."

Allura smiled at Lotor, relieved that he understood. "Thank you. Let me know how things go."

He leaned toward her and took the kiss he had been thwarted at earlier, savoring every moment of her soft lips upon his. "I will," he said once they broke apart. "I don't expect this to take all that long." He stroked Allura's soft blond hair once more before stepping back. "I'll see you back on Arus, my love."

It was then that Haggar poked her head out of the cargo hold. Two robots emerged from behind her and hurried toward the doors on the northern side of the bay while she beckoned to Allura. "She'll be in good hands, Prince Lotor. You know you can trust me to make sure that she's safe. And I won't even bemoan a scuff on my manicure if we get in a fight like someone else I could mention."

"I'd be most pleased if you didn't get into a fight at all; after all, Allura's so-called friends shouldn't be gunning for her even if she _is_ in one of our ships." He took two more steps backward. "Let me know when you arrive on Arus."

"We will," Haggar agreed, and gestured again for Allura, who had not moved, to board the ship. "Come along, Princess. We can use the short time it takes for those robots to get the robeast in the coffin to show you the layout of the ship."

Allura nodded, and after saying goodbye to Lotor, came aboard. Not bothering with small talk, the old witch immediately took her on the promised tour of the ship and introduced her to the dour-faced high admiral commanding it. The meeting was brief and tense, and Allura was relieved when they parted company and Haggar led her to the chamber where she expected Allura to spend most of the trip; the private chamber reserved for royalty or guests of importance to rest. Her instincts were right, Allura was about to sit down and settle in for the voyage when one of Haggar's robots returned and informed her that the coffin was ready.

"Excellent. I'll be out to inspect it momentarily." Haggar turned to Allura and saw, to her surprise, that the princess watched them with what seemed to be an inquisitive look rather than a frightened or disgusted one. "Princess, perhaps you would like to see this before we take off?"

Unaware that her morbid curiosity had been so obvious, Allura started and fumbled for an appropriate response. "That's not really necessary… I mean…"

"Nonsense." The witch boldly took her by the arm and led her into the hallway. "It'll be good for you to learn how a robeast works now that you're married to our prince. They're one of our main forms of defense and you've only seen the business end of them."

The notion of seeing a sleeping robeast up close and not through a monitor made Allura uneasy, but she did not protest since it was clear that Haggar meant her no harm and she supposed she had to get used to the Doomites' ways even if they did make her squeamish. Besides, robeasts were probably among the less objectionable things she would be seeing in the near future, Allura realized grimly as she and Haggar returned to the cargo bay.

The old witch led her to the side of a red coffin outlined in stark white bone that bore a skull crest. It surprised Allura to see that it was only the size of a large humanoid figure and nothing near the size of most of the beasts she had encountered while fighting as Voltron. She knew that robeasts were magically enlarged, but it was still surprising to her to see the magnitude of just how much so they were. "There's a monster in there?"

"In stasis," Haggar confirmed with a nod. "A very loyal beast, one of my favorites, a six-eyed claw beast with poisonous fangs. The base creature is native to a frost planet on the other side of the galaxy. They're quite tenacious but don't strike unless provoked, and they don't fight until either they or their masters are attacked."

A smooth, mildly familiar, and to Haggar, distinctly unwelcome voice interrupted their conversation from the still-open cargo bay door. "Showing off your little pets to our new princess, eh Haggar?"

Both she and Allura turned and saw the tall and self-important silhouette of the Doomite cleric that Allura recognized as the high priest that had performed the marriage ceremony for her and Lotor at Zarkon's request.

"Hello Veltaor," Haggar greeted him flatly, her voice nearly a hiss as she addressed him. "What brings you to Castle Doom twice in one week? Isn't Darhin-Kal falling apart without you, important as you think you are?"

The priest grinned widely, showing gleaming fangs that to a keen observer would have been noticed to have just been cosmetically brightened. "Charming as ever, aren't you Haggar my dear?" He let out an insincere laugh and eyed the princess with curiosity. "A pleasure to see you again, Princess Allura. I trust you're finding our dear old witch's company as enlightening and entertaining as I do?"

With obvious impatience, Haggar tapped the end of her staff against the coffin, inwardly debating as to whether she should awaken her pet and sic it on their visitor and demonstrate to Allura that even in their un-enhanced form, furry fanged frost beasts were formidable foes. "So what brings you here?" she repeated.

"Incidentally, I was on my way back to Darhin-Kal when I passed our illustrious queen and she mentioned that Prince Lotor and Commander Cossack, and you and Princess Allura were off on two separate but important and potentially troublesome journeys. She asked that I give the robeasts a little extra special blessing from Lord Athgar on my way out," he said, eyes alit with mischievous amusement as he spoke.

Haggar's yellow eyes narrowed. "My magic needs no assistance from your gods."

Veltaor shook his head and sighed, making a tsk-tsk noise as he did so. "Manners, manners. Fortunately Athgar is quite used to your surliness and ranks the prince's generous sacrifices above your rudeness. But he may have to bloody an extra dagger or two if you keep that up." He walked past Haggar and Allura and stood at the head of the coffin. Closing his eyes, he drew a mystical symbol in the air above it and murmured a chant that Allura recognized as some sort of prayer or blessing. To her surprise the white bone of the coffin seemed to shine as brightly as the light did off of the priest's whitened fangs for the briefest moment, but it was fleeting enough that she supposed it could have been imagination getting the better of her. Once finished, he then opened his eyes and strode back over to the cargo bay door.

"It's been a pleasure as always, Haggar. Give your elder spirits the fondest regards from their friends in Darhin-Kal." Veltaor bowed in Allura's direction. "May the Lord of Battle protect you in your voyage, Princess Allura, and may he defend your home from chaos and enemies." He drew a blessing symbol in her direction, and then backed down the ramp exiting the ship in what Haggar found to be an exceptionally overdone melodramatic flourish.

Allura did not find Veltaor's brief visit nearly as objectionable as Haggar had. "That was nice of him," she said, although she felt somewhat conflicted about accepting the blessing of the Doomites' war god. After a moment of deliberation she supposed that there was no harm in taking it in the respectful spirit she assumed it had been meant, and tried not to ponder how such favor clashed with her own world's peaceful beliefs.

"Nice, yes, about as nice as a used spaceship salesman. About as charming, too," Haggar muttered under her breath. The old witch checked that the coffin was secure and then shut the cargo bay door. "You'll find out on your own soon enough, but I haven't met one of Doom's clerics yet that isn't insufferably arrogant, and the high priests have the most swelled heads of all."

"Why don't you like them?" Allura asked once Haggar finished calling in the instruction to take off to the bridge.

"I won't convert." Haggar let out an exasperated breath, and then looked at Allura with a devilish smirk on her dark features. "That and they're jealous that my magic is better. The Ancient Ones may not be gods, but they can whip up a better robeast than Athgar, Elichi, Nys'athar, or any of their pals any day of the week."

In spite of herself and the seeming insanity of the situation, Allura found herself smiling as well. Perhaps the ride back to Arus would not be so long after all. "Haggar," she said amiably, "Tell me a little more about life on Doom."

* * *

Continued in Part Two


	2. Chapter 2

**_Act of War_  
****Part Two  
By Cheezey**

While Allura was safely on her way to Arus with Haggar, Lotor and Cossack and their fleet of attack ships wasted no time heading back to Pollux. The ego wound Lotor had sustained from the previous run-in on Pollux was still quite raw, and he was quite motivated to return the favor in spades. Aboard another of the battleships, Commander Cossack was equally ready to engage the Polluxians; not because he was frothing mad like Lotor, but because he always enjoyed a good invasion and the bonus of knowing they were going to knock the half-pint prince of Pollux down a few pegs made it even more appealing.

Their less than subtle approach did not go unnoticed, and no sooner had they entered Pollux's airspace when they found themselves greeted not by a video hail but by a barrage of laser fire. The Doomites had expected no less than a hostile greeting, however, and the initial blasts deflected harmlessly off their shields.

"Hey, that tickled!" Cossack chortled over the airwaves.

"Prince Bandor needs to learn some royal manners, I see," Lotor sneered in response. "And to respect his superiors." He keyed in the frequency to hail the control center within Castle Pollux. "Why Bandor, how very rude of you to greet us this way… when all we did was come to ask you again nicely to turn over the red lion that belongs to us."

Bandor's angry countenance appeared on the screen. "I told you before and I'm telling you again, you'll get your hands on that red lion over my dead body. The people of Pollux will protect the spirit of Voltron with our lives."

"Then the people of Pollux have a fool for a leader, if he'll trade their precious lives for something that's not only dead but doesn't even rightfully belong to him." He ordered his soldiers to target the castle with their laser cannons and fire. Cossack's ship, along with the others in their fleet, followed suit.

The screen jumbled, but Bandor remained steadfast. "We won't surrender ourselves or the red lion to scum like you!"

"They belong to Princess Allura," Lotor asserted sternly. "And I'll take it back for her if Lance won't surrender it willingly." To make his point, he concentrated his fire again. Castle Pollux returned with a volley of shots of their own, but the Doom ships' shields were stronger and there were more of them, so they were not overly concerned. Still, on Cossack's orders a squadron of air fighters took off from one of the other battleships and began targeting the castle guns.

Lotor folded his arms smugly. "Don't make an even bigger fool out of yourself than you already have, Bandor. Surrender and we'll spare your people, perhaps even your loved ones, if you turn out the red lion and his pilot. Harbor them, and you and all of Pollux will pay the price."

The lights in the background around Bandor flickered under the heavier fire, and although the transmission remained open, Bandor could be seen trying to maintain his balance as well as his cool, and he had at best a tenuous hold on either. "Never!"

A supporting hand fell on Bandor's shoulder and the angry face of Sven appeared behind him. Further in the shadows the outline and garbled voice of Romelle, presumably shouting orders at others farther back, could be heard, but that was drowned out between the sound of an explosion hitting close to their location and a sudden and outraged outburst from Sven. "Princess Allura would never condone an attack on the people of Pollux over a lion!"

"Ah, but Princess Allura isn't here this time," Cossack's incongruously calm and mocking voice responded. "And we don't negotiate like Arusians."

A sinister smile spread across Lotor's lips. "We're merely acting on their behalf."

"Allura would never want you to do this, you monster!" Romelle seethed viciously, shoving her way past her brother and Sven to glower at the screen. "She was a fool for thinking there was anything worth saving in you." Bandor meanwhile shook his fist at the screen and slammed his other hand down on a panel that released more laser fire in their general direction, although it did little good. None of the Doom ships sustained serious damage from it, and Castle Pollux's shields and power were reaching critical low levels.

Lotor found Romelle's indignant outburst amusing, and laughed in response to it. "And how will she find out? Do you think she'll believe anything you or your friends have to say after you harbored the so-called friend that stole her property and fired on her when she peacefully asked for it back? Or will she believe the one who'd do anything to see to it she gets what she needs, what's rightfully hers, who holds her and comforts her after all the others she trusted have turned on her?"

Romelle hissed in wordless rage and lunged at the screen, but was knocked backward when a powerful blast broke through a weak spot in the castle shields, causing the entire structure to quake. Lotor and Cossack, both witness to it, laughed heartily at the staticky image of her being knocked rump over teakettle.

"Your tantrums are quite amusing, Romelle. It's a pity that we won't have time to chat more. But I'm afraid we have a lion to recover, by any means necessary."

"See you soon!" Cossack echoed in mock joviality, while Lotor terminated the transmission with a strategically targeted cannon blast that struck the castle wall directly above the control center, knocking out the room's power altogether.

* * *

In the chaotic darkness of Castle Pollux's control room, Sven helped Romelle to her feet while Bandor scrambled to find a console that could still transmit a distress signal powerful enough to traverse space. Armed with a laser rifle, Hunk ran into the room, short of breath from the sprint he had just made to get there from a now destroyed gun turret. "They've released a robeast," he said grimly. "We gotta get help, pronto."

"We're trying," Bandor responded in an equally frantic tone. "I think I got a distress code out to the Alliance headquarters before our power went out, but I don't have confirmation."

"What about Lance?"

"I tried the radio as soon as we saw the Doom ships on our radar." Although Sven was calmer than the others, he was still noticeably harried. "He didn't answer, but I'm not surprised."

"I just pray he heard us." Romelle closed her eyes and clenched her fists, taking in a steadying breath. "I tried calling too; we sent several transmissions."

Sven reached under the console where a few emergency laser pistols were stored. "We'll have to fight with whatever we've got left. The robeast will have to be drawn away from the castle."

"Damn Lotor," Romelle swore in an angry whisper. "I hate him."

Sven and Hunk's communicators, both standard issue of the Castle Pollux guards, sounded simultaneously. Although different guards were reporting in to them, the news was the same—one of Doom's battleships had deployed ground forces that were headed toward the castle along with the robeast.

"We don't have the means to fight that, do we?" Romelle looked from her brother to Sven and Hunk, a grim look in her eyes.

"No." Bandor swallowed hard and forced himself to stay strong despite his rising fear.

Romelle paled, although in the dim emergency lighting none of them could tell. "What do we do now then?"

"Only thing we can do," Hunk said gravely, and cocked his laser rifle. "Fight 'em as best we can."

"And do what we can to save as many lives as we can," Sven added.

"Starting with you, Sis," Bandor finished, stepping forward decisively and taking Romelle's hand.

She looked wildly from Bandor to Sven. "What?"

"I want you to go through the evacuation tunnels and get as far away from the castle as you can." Bandor looked to Sven. "You go with her."

"What? You can't expect me to run!" the shocked Romelle retorted, wrenching her hand from Bandor's grasp. "I'm not running from Lotor! This is my home and I'm going to defend it with you!"

"Would you rather die in it?" Bandor hollered back. "We're outgunned and our defenses are down! If help doesn't show up, that robeast could destroy the whole place!"

"Then I'll fight with you," Romelle argued determinedly. "Lotor already cost us Avok and our father; I won't run like a coward any more than you will!"

His patience gone and his temper at his limit, Bandor ignored his sister's protests and shoved her in Sven's direction. "I'm not gonna fight with you, Romelle! If we both stay here and die, Pollux will fall and there'll be nobody keeping order with whatever's left. Who knows what'll happen to it and our people?" he argued with desperation. "If we split up our odds are better."

Sven gave a grave nod of agreement. "Bandor is right. I don't want to run either, but we don't have a choice. And someone needs to lead those who can't fight to safety."

Remembering that there were such individuals in the castle—older servants, children, families of the court, Romelle realized that she had to do as Bandor asked. "I—I guess you're right." She gripped the pistol in her hand more tightly. "We'll try to get as many as we can out."

"We'll keep their attention up front and get you as much time as we can," Hunk assured them. "Try to cover your tracks so they can't hunt you down."

Both Sven and Romelle nodded. "We will."

"Good luck," Sven said to his friends as they parted. "We're all going to need it."

As Sven and Romelle fled together down the hallway, Hunk and Bandor readied their weapons and hurried to the main gates of Castle Pollux, where they saw the hideous robeast Lotor and Cossack had unleashed. The creature roared its way through the courtyard, viciously slaughtering every guardsman that crossed its path. Screams and cries filled the air, silenced only by the intermittent explosions of laser cannons striking walls. The smell of smoke, blood, and death permeated the air.

Bandor and Hunk fought their way past advancing enemy troops, doing their best to keep the soldiers from entering the castle proper, but it was a losing proposition. They were hopelessly outnumbered and with the castle's wall defenses offline there was little they could do but delay the inevitable. That was made inescapably clear a few moments later, when a barrage of fire from Lotor's ship brought one of the castle towers down in a deafening collapse. The two of them, and the guards around them, barely had the chance to take in what had happened before Cossack's battleship targeted the castle's center roof and caved that in as well.

"Lotor, you bastard!" Enraged and emotional, Bandor ran out into the thick of the courtyard wildly firing at everything in his path, and only narrowly avoided being stepped on by the robeast as it began to scale one of the remaining intact castle walls. The creature let out an unearthly roar and swiped at some of the guards firing upon it.

Bandor's rage was cut short when an approaching group of Doom soldiers opened fire in his direction. Hunk barely had the time to shout a frantic, "Bandor!" before a laser blast struck the young prince directly in the left side, knocking him to the ground and leaving him unmoving and silent.

Hunk was not able to reach Bandor before he and the three guardsmen that were close at his heels found themselves surrounded by an entourage of Doom soldiers. Their commanding officer, an all-too-familiar figure, stepped forward to eye up his men's handiwork. "Well, that takes care of Prince Pipsqueak," Commander Cossack quipped as he sneered at Hunk, who he recognized immediately. "And it looks like we've got us an ex-Voltron flyboy as well."

Furious, Hunk let out a snarl and fired at the enemy soldiers, striking one and causing the others, including Cossack, to duck and reorient. "You're gonna pay for this!"

"Nah, not my tab," the unfazed Cossack retorted, and with a precise whish, knocked the rifle from Hunk's hands with his electrolash. Corresponding blasts from the Doom soldiers left two of the guards behind Hunk dead and the third clutching a gruesome shoulder wound in agony. Hunk himself received not only a stinging burn on his arm from the electrolash, but also a painful laser wound in his thigh that literally brought him to his knees in front of Cossack.

Adding insult as well as further injury, Cossack lashed Hunk once more with his weapon, that time in the back, and gave his uninjured leg a swift kick for good measure. "I'd tell you to surrender, but you Voltron fools always go on about how you never give up and we evil-doers will never win, so if it's all the same I'd rather skip that whole speech."

"You won't take Pollux," Hunk seethed with labored breath. He gritted his teeth and resisted as best he could as the Doom guards sought to grab and chain him. He was no longer in much of a condition to fight, but he would not let them take him without one.

Cossack let out a glib chortle, amused at the Voltron pilot's token resistance and vain protests. "That's funny, I think we just did!" He motioned toward his ship. "Take our Voltron Force prize to Prince Lotor, and load up any prisoners that'll make good slaves. Leave the rest for robeast food and fertilizer." He sneered in the fallen Bandor's direction. "Though if I was a robeast, I don't think I'd want to eat that. Barely makes a snack."

"Yes sir," one of the guards responded. They shoved the struggling Hunk toward one of the transports, while Cossack turned toward another group of soldiers.

"You guys scout for any sign of Princess Romelle, the other Voltron fools, and especially that red lion. Try to take them alive, since Lotor'll want to deal with them personally, but get the red lion at any cost, no matter what. Got it?"

"Yes Commander Cossack," they echoed in response.

"Good." Cossack lashed his electrolash through the smoky air once more just for fun, and gave Prince Bandor's limp form a symbolic kick with his pointy-toed boot. He then out a hearty laugh, savoring the sight of the robeast tearing Castle Pollux and those that resisted them in it to pieces.

* * *

Lance pushed the red lion to its limits in speed heading toward Pollux. "Don't let me be too late!" he said urgently, although there was no one flying with him to hear him. In the time since he had left Pollux he had put a good distance between himself and the world. He had hoped that leaving would ensure his friends' safety, but the staticky pleas for help he had received on the agreed frequency had just proven his decision to be one made in folly.

Urgently trying to squeeze the slightest bit more speed out of the red lion, Lance eyed the empty space that lay between him and his friends that needed him. "Hang on guys, I'm on my way!"

* * *

Unaware of what had happened to her brother but all too aware of how the castle was falling apart around her, Romelle led Sven and several members of the castle staff and court through dark and dank underground tunnels that would eventually lead to an escape from the castle. There were a little over twenty of them altogether; not all that many considering how many staffed and resided in the castle, but many had insisted on staying to help fight Lotor's soldiers, even ones that were in no condition to do so. Romelle and Sven both prayed that the bravery and loyalty of those people would not be repaid with death or enslavement.

Thus far they had not been pursued. They hoped meant that they had not been spotted and that their escape route—which originated as a hidden door in one of the castle's root and grain cellars—had not been found by the enemy. Unfortunately there was no safe haven awaiting them at the end; the tunnels ended at a rocky cave opening in a thicket of trees about a mile and a half west of the castle. There were no buildings nearby with supplies and no obvious natural shelters, for the tunnels were originally designed as an evacuation route and not a refuge. Sven and Romelle supposed that it worked in their favor that there were no such structures, for as long as they and the refugees remained out of sight until night fell, none of the enemy would bother looking for them in such a place. The tunnels themselves were cold, low, and dark, but they would provide minimal shelter from the elements, and after the battle was over, they would have some time to figure out where to go under the cover of darkness.

Even in their hurry to get to safety, the trek through the tunnels was slow. In parts the ceiling was low enough that all but the children and shortest adults had to duck, and the floor was slick and uneven. The air was stale and the stink of mildew was overpowering, and more than a few bugs skittered past them on their way. Some of the older refugees and ones carrying children too young to walk moved more slowly as well, and every time they heard a sound ahead of or behind them, they wondered if it meant that they had been discovered and were being chased.

The sounds of battle grew more distant, although no less ominous, and after what felt like an eternity they came to what appeared to be a dead end. In actuality it was not, rather it was a steep slope, about six feet in length, which led upwards to the hole in the ground that marked the outside entrance to their tunnel.

"This is it," Romelle told her companions with a breath of relief. "We made it."

"But before any of us go out, let me check that it's safe," Sven said before anyone else could speak. With some effort he scaled the incline and poked his head out. The evergreen trees above blocked much of the daylight, but to his relief he heard and saw no sign of anything but wildlife nearby. He climbed out the rest of the way and to his relief, still saw no danger. Still, he kept a firm hold on his laser pistol. Turning back toward the cave opening he called, "It's all clear!"

Romelle emerged next, and over the next several minutes they helped the rest of the escapees from Castle Pollux out into the fresh air. Once everyone was out, Sven walked to the edge of the tree line and looked in the direction of the castle, still under siege. Though the hilly landscape prevented a clear view, the tops of the towers should have been visible from where they were, and much to his shock and sorrow, they were not. Instead all he saw was an ugly dark cloud of smoke, flashes of laser fire, and the silhouettes of the Doom ships in the sky. The sounds of the battle could still be heard—blasts, rumblings, and the faintest hints of what had to be the robeast's screeches—and that painted an even more ominous picture of what was happening.

"Oh…" Romelle's sorrowful voice came from beside him, startling him as he had not realized that she had approached.

"It's bad," he said softly, and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Do you think that Bandor… do you think they could survive? It looks like the castle's gone." Her eyes clouded with tears.

Sven was unable to take his eyes off of the terrible scene, but he held her closer nonetheless. "We have to hope that they do."

"It's hard to have much hope with all that Lotor's destroyed." Her voice began to choke up. "My family, my friends, now my home…"

Now in a tight embrace, Sven patted Romelle's back, wishing that he had some words of comfort to give or some way to reassure her that things were not as grim as they seemed. Then, as if the cosmos sought to grant him that reassurance, a bright object appeared in the sky above them, a swift-moving ship with a telltale reddish shimmering streak in its wake.

"Look!"

Romelle followed Sven's gaze upward and hope filled her wet eyes at it had Sven's when he said it. "The red lion! Lance heard us!"

"I knew he wouldn't let us down if he got the message," Sven said with a wan smile. "I just hope he's not too late."

"Me too, Sven." The princess rested her head on Sven's chest and watched as their last hope flew into the thick of the battle by the castle. "Me too."

* * *

Aboard the bridge of his battleship, Lotor let out a hearty cackle when he saw the red lion approach. "So, Lance wasn't actually on Pollux anymore," he said, finding a delightful irony in decimating the world when they could not have turned over the red lion even if they had been willing to do so. "Oh well." He shrugged and plastered an insincere smile on his face as he went to place a call to the red lion to gloat.

He did not have the chance before Cossack hailed him. "What is it?" Lotor demanded irritably. "It better be good! The red lion just showed up, and I want to have words with that space explorer before I annihilate him."

"Oh, in that case I won't keep you, Sire," Cossack replied with an equally enthusiastic grin. "But it is good news. On his way to your ship as a prisoner is the yellow lion pilot Hunk. Some of my men took him right after they shot Prince Shorty in the courtyard."

Lotor's eyes lit up. That _was_ a worthwhile interruption; Hunk as a prisoner was quite a prize. He did not bother to ponder what Allura would think of that; he would deal with her later. His grudge with Pollux and the Voltron Force was a personal score and it would be settled on his terms. Allura could be placated after it was all said and done. After all, it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission, especially when Lotor was not the type to ask permission of anyone, even his beloved wife.

"Is Bandor dead?"

"I dunno. I guess so. He hasn't gotten up and shot off his mouth, but all his limbs are still attached so even if he is alive, he probably won't be for long."

"And Romelle? Sven? What about Keith?"

"Haven't come across them yet," Cossack replied. "My men are searching. We've got a bunch of prisoners that I haven't sorted yet, so they might be in there if they weren't smart enough to recognize 'em."

Lotor's eyes narrowed determinedly. "Take them alive if you can. I want them as trophies—living trophies. Allura will be difficult if they're dead."

Cossack nodded. "Sure thing. They might've bought it in one of the cave-ins though. The place is mostly rubble now."

"It'll _all _be rubble by the time we're done with it," Lotor asserted with savage authority. "Have the ground troops round up who they can, get back to your ship, and let the robeast finish down there. We have a lion to catch."

"Right away, Sire!"

With that the connection cut off, and Lotor wasted no time in switching channels to the red lion. "Lance," he greeted in a mock welcoming tone. "So glad you and the red lion could come out to play."

The angry face of Lance appeared on Lotor's screen. "I'm not playing, Lotor, except to make you lose." He then fired several missiles directly at Lotor's ship. Through the shields the damage they caused was largely cosmetic and did little to inhibit the ship's function. The robots manning the defenses did not need to be told to return fire, which they did while Lotor transmitted his response to Lance.

"Well then, if you won't play with me, you'll have to play with my friend down there if you won't surrender quietly." He then paused and said with an insincerely polite demeanor, "Will you turn the lion over that belongs to your friend the princess like a good boy?"

Navigating his way around the barrage of laser fire headed at him from Lotor's ship, Lance's response was a heated "Turn this!" To accentuate his point, he had the red lion let loose a hot spray of lava breath onto the battleship.

That time the damage Lance dished out was a bit more than cosmetic, and several alarms blared through the bridge of Lotor's ship. "I see you won't handle this like a civilized adult," Lotor seethed. "So you can play with a beast like your stolen lion." He keyed up another channel to convey an order directly to the robeast. "Robeast, attack!"

Immediately the robeast's attention shifted from the fallen Castle Pollux to the red lion, and it launched into the air toward Lance's ship with an unearthly screech. Lotor ordered the soldiers on his ship as well as the ones on Cossack's to finish what they started and level the castle below. There was not much of it left, and Lotor received word a few moments later that the Polluxians who were to be taken as slaves were already aboard the battleships.

The prince of Doom let out a smug chuckle as he surveyed the scene. It was only a matter of time before the last bit of resistance and final remaining rebellious piece of Voltron was in his hands once and for all.

* * *

In the red lion, Lance was both angry and growing increasingly fearful. He was aware of the devastation taking place on the ground below, but with the robeast's attention on him there was nothing he could do to help his friends there. It was all he could do to fight the vicious creature off and keep himself alive and the red lion from either being captured or destroyed.

He had already made the grim resolution to himself that if it came to it, he would have to allow the lion to be destroyed rather than acquired. It crushed him to think of another piece of Voltron lost in such a way, not to mention the fear and dread regarding his own fate, but it was better that than the red lion falling into Lotor's hands to be used to further Doom's bloodthirsty desire for conquest.

The robeast's claw connected with the red lion's torso, sending painful sparks through the cabin that made Lance scream aloud. He managed to blast the robeast off of the lion with a burst of fire, but he could tell by the way the controls responded that it would be a close fight—and that was only if Lotor's battleships did not decide to "help" their pet finish the job.

He reached down and patted his rabbit's foot. "C'mon, where's that luck you're supposed to bring me?"

Since he had not really expected an answer, Lance's jaw dropped when his radio crackled to life with a familiar and very welcome voice.

"Lance!"

"Keith!" he exclaimed. "What are—?"

"We've got your back," his friend's voice responded, and when Lance checked his console he saw that Keith was indeed there—not in the black lion, but in a heavily armed Galaxy Alliance ship, one that had come with plenty of friends. They opened fire on the robeast and Lotor's fleet.

Once he caught his breath and his heart resumed beating at a semi-normal pace, a wide grin spread across Lance's face. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you…"

"Gladder than Lotor, I bet," Keith answered in the same tone he had always used when they interacted in battle in the lions.

The reminder of more pleasant times was bittersweet, but regardless Lance was glad to have Keith fighting at his side, and he replied in much the same way he might have had it been the two of them taking on Lotor in the black and red lions together. "Let's make him even less glad."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Lotor was indeed not pleased, and neither were Cossack or any of the other Doom soldiers participating in the invasion. The prince seethed in wordless rage at the sudden appearance of such a large envoy of Galaxy Alliance ships on the horizon, while Cossack found some appropriate words and broadcast them direct to Lotor's ship. "Where the fuck did they come from?" his irate voice blared over the ultrawave.

"Galaxy Garrison, Commander Cossack," some robot in the background responded, one that Cossack declared would be renamed Captain Obvious if it was repairable after the damage it took from the commander's electrolash after it gave its reply.

"It would seem that they got out a call for help." Lotor's voice was deathly calm, although the livid expression on his face indicated that he was anything but, especially as his ship and the rest of Lotor's fleet began to take heavy fire from the newly arrived reinforcements.

The prince's eyes narrowed further as Cossack's battleship exchanged fire with two ships surrounding it, and then as he surveyed the status of his own ship in its fight with the others that had flanked it. It made Lotor furious to realize that with the Galaxy Alliance reinforcements, he was now at the tactical disadvantage and it would only be a matter of time before he had to retreat. That meant leaving the red lion—still with its paws full with the robeast—behind and returning home without it.

Another loud string of curses from Cossack came over the ultrawave. "Sire, any suggestions? We're getting our asses reamed and our shields are only gonna hold for another minute or two." He muttered something else, and then a brilliant blast lit up the screen as one of the Alliance ships burst into flame. "Well at least I got one of those damn GA ships."

The scowl on Lotor's face deepened, giving him a truly demonic and evil look. The tide of battle had turned and he loathed running from the likes of the Galaxy Alliance, especially when it meant leaving the prize he had come for behind. Granted, it was not a total waste—Castle Pollux was destroyed, he had at least one member of the Voltron Force as a prisoner, and Bandor and Romelle were more than likely dead or at the very least, had lost most everything they held dear. The red lion could be coaxed out again, and Lotor vowed that when that happened he would have a better plan in place for it.

"Return to Doom," the bitter and angry Lotor ordered. "I think we made our point well enough." Cossack acknowledged the command and conveyed the order to withdraw, and Lotor sent a transmission to the Galaxy Alliance ships and red lion in parting.

"Consider what happened to Castle Pollux a warning to anyone who presumes to steal the rightful property of planet Arus, planet Doom, and the Drule Empire. The red lion belongs to my wife, Princess Allura, and I _will_ see to it that she gets it, one way or another. It's up to you whether that's in a peaceful relinquishment, or in pieces stained with your blood. Prince Bandor and his friends learned that lesson the hard way. You'll be next if you continue to thwart me. Don't break your dear princess' heart, Lance, by making me kill you too." The prince's yellow eyes were bright with cruel and vengeful intent. "Or your friend Hunk, who I assure you is still alive… and on my ship. For now."

Lotor paused to allow the implicit threat to sink in and to savor the anguish he knew his enemies would feel when they heard that before he finished. "If my robeast doesn't kill you first, you have forty eight hours to abandon the red lion and see to it that the key gets to Allura. If not… well then, I'm quite sorry for your friend."

With that, Lotor's ship withdrew from Pollux's atmosphere and vanished into the darkness of space.

* * *

Lance and Keith were not able to do more than listen to Lotor's ominous gloating as they fought the robeast that the Doom forces had left behind. The fight was brutal and the creature was both vicious and hardy. Without Voltron and his blazing sword, which Lance realized he had become entirely too used to having as a Plan B when a fight got intense, taking on a robeast was no easy task.

The scuffle lasted what felt like an eternity, even though it was really only a matter of minutes, before the combined strength of the red lion and the Galaxy Alliance ships put the deadly creature down for good. When the robeast breathed its last and the dust settled, no more lives had been lost, but some of the Galaxy Alliance ships looked quite a bit worse for the wear. The red lion was not in top shape any longer either, but it was still in passable condition and Lance was not too worried about it, at least not as far as its spaceworthiness or combat durability went.

The damage that Castle Pollux had taken that Lance saw when he disembarked, however, was a different story, and it gave him a terrible nauseous feeling in his stomach to witness firsthand. He had witnessed the destruction Doom left in its wake many times, but it never got any easier to see, especially knowing that this time it was his friends that had suffered. Lance had no words for what he felt as he traversed the obliterated courtyard, thinking about Hunk, Sven, Romelle, and Bandor, and the role Allura had in it all as Lotor's willing wife.

"My god…" Keith's somber voice interrupted Lance's thoughts. The red lion pilot turned and saw his friend approaching with a Galaxy Alliance captain at his side.

"It's worse than it looked on the ship," the officer said in a grim tone.

"It always is," Lance replied sourly.

"This is Captain Niyte," Keith offered in introduction. "When I got back to Galaxy Garrison I told them everything we knew, and they figured, like I did, that Lotor would be back before long."

Lance nodded to the captain, and then looked at Keith curiously. "I thought you didn't want to be involved in this anymore."

Keith let out a sigh. "I don't. But once we got confirmation that Lotor had ships headed out here, there wasn't any time to waste."

"I wanted him along because of his experience dealing with Doom and what he knows particularly about this situation," Niyte explained.

"It made sense for me to come," Keith agreed with a nod. "And I had to see for myself that everyone was okay."

Lance closed his eyes and made a fist. "Yeah well, they're not."

"I know… Hunk," Keith sighed. "And we've got to hope we find Sven, Romelle, and Bandor here and not with him. Or worse."

"Don't even say—" Lance started, but a scouting Galaxy Alliance soldier provided some welcome interruption with an announcement to the captain that cut him off.

"Sir! We found some survivors, and Prince Bandor."

"Is he alive?" Keith asked the soldier, his dark eyes lighting up with hope, hope that was echoed in Lance's features as well as he also listened for the answer.

The man nodded, and beckoned for them to follow him. They hurried as fast as they could across the rubble to where a medical team had already hoisted Bandor onto a mobile transport. There was an IV in his arm and a heavy blanket over him. "The laser burn cauterized most of the wound, so he didn't lose too much blood, Sir," a medic explained to the captain as they approached. "I think he's got some serious internal injuries though, and he'll need to be kept in a hospital unit."

"What do you think his chances are?" Niyte asked.

The medic frowned. "It's hard to say, Sir. He only regained consciousness twice but for less than a minute. Until we know the full extent of his injuries…"

The captain nodded somberly. "Understood."

The medics then took Bandor aboard a ship and out of their sight, and while the crew tended to some other survivors, Lance asked, "What about Princess Romelle? And Sven?"

"Nobody's seen them yet," another medic replied.

A nearby soldier volunteered, "We're still looking though."

Keith climbed on top of a large piece of rubble to see if he could spot a relatively safe pathway deeper into the castle ruins. "We've gotta keep looking," he said determinedly. "If Sven and Romelle are in there alive, they need our help."

"Yeah," Lance agreed, also feeling a renewed sense of urgency, not just for Sven and Romelle but also for someone that no one had addressed directly yet. "What about Hunk? He needs our help too."

A disturbed frown spread across Keith's face as he recalled Lotor's ultimatum. "Yeah."

Niyte turned and gave both of the Voltron pilots a sympathetic but stern look. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the Galaxy Alliance's official position on acquiescing to terroristic demands."

The officious response lit Lance's fuse, and anger flashed in his eyes. "Hunk isn't some statistic."

Keith leapt down from the rubble and put his hand on Lance's shoulder in an effort to disarm him. "He didn't mean it that way, Lance," he said, and looked at Niyte. "Besides, if the lions do technically belong to Arus, it means they're Allura's and if she's married to Lotor…" His voice caught in his throat as he said the last part; the notion was still hard for him to accept and sounded crazy when spoken, even though it was reality.

"Arus is still technically a part of the Galaxy Alliance," Niyte conceded before adding, "for now, anyway. After this," he looked around at the wasted landscape that had once been Castle Pollux and its courtyard, "I wouldn't be surprised if it's suspended from it unless Princess Allura denies complicity in it and in a show of good faith renounces her marriage to Prince Lotor and severs all political ties to Zarkon's empire." He rubbed his chin. "Regardless, regulation stipulates that until we've got official notification that Arus_isn't_ a part of the Alliance, the red lion is still subject to being treated as property of a Galaxy Alliance world and can't be turned over to an adversarial force in response to a threat." His brow furrowed as he further pondered the contradictory nature of the situation. "Even if we turn it over to its legitimate owner, and especially not if she's party to the invasion of a fellow Alliance world."

That time it was Keith's turn to frown. "There's no way Allura was party to _this_. No way. This was all Lotor's doing."

Lance remained uncharacteristically quiet. Like Keith, he did not believe that Allura would have condoned what had just happened on Pollux, but as close to Lotor as she now was, he found it hard to see her hands as being entirely clean of the blood that had been shed, even if it was unwittingly. "So what _do_ we do with the lion? I can't just turn it over to Lotor." He took a deep breath to steady himself and keep the raw emotion churning inside him from pouring out. "But Hunk…"

"We'll find a way to get Hunk," Keith said. "Allura would never let Lotor hurt him."

"How's she gonna stop him?" Lance suddenly exploded, shouting at Keith. "She didn't stop him from doing this!" He waved wildly toward the destroyed castle. "She has no control over him! You really think she'll be able keep him from killing Hunk?" He kicked a rock at his feet with enough force to send it skittering far across the courtyard. "Then you're just as fucking naïve as she is."

Keith let out a frustrated groan. "What do you propose we do then? Take off in the lion again? That's been your sure-fire solution to everything so far."

"Yeah well, I bet if I went to Doom in the red lion I'd have a better shot of getting Hunk out of there than you and the Galaxy Alliance debating about laws and Lotor's intentions all day!"

Niyte took personal umbrage to Lance's accusation toward the Galaxy Alliance and its bureaucratic nature. "We act on the behalf of the greater good for everyone in the Alliance."

"Don't do anything stupid, Lance!" Keith warned. "We've lost enough from rash actions lately. If you go to Doom half-cocked you're likely to get yourself killed or land yourself right beside Hunk, and Lotor'll get the red lion anyway. Is that what you want?"

"You don't think doing nothing is stupid too?"

"Of course we've got to do something!" the exasperated Keith replied. "But how about first taking care of our friends right here, right now, who need us? Hunk isn't the only one to think about. Sven and Romelle also need our help!"

Keith's rational words bit into Lance's anger just enough to give him pause. "Okay," he conceded. "How about this then? You and Captain Niyte stay here and look for Sven and Romelle, and help the people of Pollux. I'll take the red lion and split." He held up a hand before Keith could protest, even as the former black lion pilot drew breath to do so. "I promise I won't fly to Doom solo on a mission to get Hunk. I swear. I'll find some of our friends… some who aren't so military, who don't have to do so much 'by the book'. Stride, Joran, Omnia, Marianne, people like that with resources and the means to help."

"All right," Keith agreed, albeit with some hesitation. "You'll keep in contact?"

Lance nodded. "With a low profile, but yeah."

Niyte raised an eyebrow at the exchange, but did not challenge the notion. "Officially, I never heard that," he told them in a low tone that would not attract attention from anyone else. "Far as I know, you two came to an agreement to seek aid through alternative channels while I was with my men looking for survivors."

At that Lance gave a wan smile. "Glad you weren't here then, Captain."

"Happy to not help," he quipped in response.

Keith put his hand on Lance's shoulder. "Good luck."

Lance returned the gesture, and his friend's warm look. "You too."

* * *

The news of what had happened on Pollux did not reach Arus until several hours after the battle. Princess Allura and Haggar had arrived on Allura's home world uneventfully and received a peaceful, albeit awkward, reception from the Castle of Lions staff. Her attendants and guards treated her cordially, and watched Haggar with wary eyes, but no one dared to insult the witch or protest her presence. High Admiral Threen did not bother leaving his ship when they arrived, and stayed only long enough to deploy the soldiers he had been ordered to leave behind as guards and escorts for Haggar and Allura.

The tension and silent animosity that had filled the atmosphere when Allura, Haggar, Coran, Nanny, and Pidge all assembled in the control room had been excruciating, however, and the princess had been very relieved when Haggar excused herself to "see to Zarkon's orders" pertaining to the robot soldiers stationed outside. When the old witch returned, she had immediately asked to be shown to whatever guest quarters she was to be given, and that was the only interaction they had with her.

Nanny had showered Allura with hugs and bemoaned the danger "that beast" that she had married placed her in, referring to the ill-fated trip to Pollux she and Lotor had taken prior to her leaving Doom, and once she had calmed down, Pidge and Coran had asked Allura to tell them what had happened. They had been understandably upset at Bandor's reaction of opening fire on Allura and Lotor's ship, although Coran pointed out that it should not have been entirely unexpected while Pidge defended his friends and staunchly refuted Coran's disapproving implication that Lance was a thief.

That conversation, on top of everything else Allura had dealt with since she had left for Pollux with Lotor, had drained Allura's mental and emotional reserves, and as a result she had asked that they postpone further discussion of it until they met for dinner. She had then excused herself for a much-needed solitary rest.

Her sleep, somewhat fitful as it had been, still did her some good and she awakened with a clear head and a renewed resolve to make the best of the situation no matter what happened. Although it made her heart ache know that Bandor and Romelle—and presumably Keith, Hunk, Sven, and especially Lance if he would not return the lion—were angry and perhaps even hated her for choosing to marry Lotor, she still clung to the hope that somehow she could make them understand and maybe even regain their friendship in time.

Little did she know what a challenge that would turn out to be.

"Princess," Coran greeted Allura somberly as she walked into the control room. The news of Lotor's retaliatory strike on Pollux had finally reached Arus, and it fell upon Coran's shoulders to break it to the princess. "We need to talk. I'm afraid I have some very bad news."

Allura's heart sank when she saw her guardian's expression, and when she noticed Pidge sitting in one of the swivel chairs with reddened eyes that appeared to have been recently crying. "What happened?" She went to Pidge's side and looked to Coran, alarmed. "Pidge? Coran?"

"Tell her," Haggar's old voice came from the shadows on the other side of the room. Allura had not even realized that Haggar was in the room until then, and she could not tell from the witch's neutral tone whether she was taking silent glee in or truly ambivalent about whatever it was that Coran was supposed to tell her.

The castle caretaker straightened. "Your husband," he began in a stiffly controlled tone, "fulfilled his word that he would act on your behalf to reclaim the red lion by any means necessary."

The implication of his words hit her like a thunderbolt, and Allura swallowed and prayed that the reason for Pidge's tear-stained face was not what first came to mind. "Oh no. Lance isn't—?"

"Lance is alive," Coran said, "and so are Keith and Prince Bandor. That's the good news." His frown etched deeper. "The _only _good news. I can't say the same for Princess Romelle or Sven, who are missing, presumed either captured by Doom's forces or possibly dead in the rubble of Castle Pollux, or Hunk, whom Lotor claims has been taken captive by his soldiers as a hostage."

"Lotor captured Hunk?" Allura repeated in disbelief. "And 'rubble'… are you saying he destroyed Castle Pollux?"

"Yeah," Pidge said miserably, looking up at Allura with what she could only describe as an awful expression—a combination of grief, anger, hurt, and worry all together.

"But he said he wouldn't hurt…"

Haggar fixed her unyielding stare on the princess. "Prince Lotor said he would try not to hurt anyone innocent. Castle Pollux isn't a civilian target."

Allura's eyes clouded with tears, both for her friends and at the sting of betrayal, for she had believed Lotor's promise to her not to harm those she cared about. "But there were innocent people in the castle. And he was only supposed to ask for the lion back and take it if they fought him."

"Do you really think they didn't resist?" Haggar replied incredulously. Although the old witch was not being intentionally cruel or biting—a surprising display of sympathy from someone of Haggar's emotional makeup—Allura still found her words cold and hollow.

Coran meanwhile frowned in Haggar's direction. "Naturally they resisted. Any law-abiding Alliance world would, when dealing with threats from the likes of Prince Lotor."

Haggar let out an unimpressed snort. "Threats to return something that rightfully belongs to him to begin with? How very typical of the Galaxy Alliance."

"They don't belong to Lotor!" Pidge snapped at the witch.

"No, they belong to his wife." She gave Pidge an equally unamused look.

"Please stop." Allura's voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, but it still carried an unmistakable air of authority. As everyone fell silent, she turned to Coran. "What else happened? Lotor went there, demanded the lions, and they fought?"

"And he blasted their castle into rubble," he confirmed succinctly, closing his eyes with renewed sadness. "Once the castle fell, they sent in a ground invasion to capture what survivors they could. Hunk was among them. Lotor gloated as much when he retreated."

"He retreated? But I thought he won?"

"Not quite," Haggar corrected. "Your friends on Pollux managed to get out a distress call to the Galaxy Alliance. They showed up with reinforcements after much of the damage was done, but before Lotor's robeast could overpower the red lion."

"But before he left, he did say that Hunk would pay the price if Lance didn't give him the lion within forty eight hours," Coran interjected with a tone of finality. "And as of yet, he has not done so. He was last seen leaving Pollux and heading deeper into Galaxy Alliance territory in it."

Allura felt as though she had been dealt a physical blow and took a steadying breath. "No…" She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. How could things have gotten so out of hand that such awful things were happening to her friends? She felt terrible, guilty, and miserable. It was because of her decision to marry Lotor that these things had happened, because she wanted to save him from an unjust fate. Why were those she loved being forced to pay such a price for her decision? It felt so cruel and unfair…

Turning to Haggar, she decided that she had to do whatever it took to try and set things right, since she could not change what had already been done. "Lotor has Hunk, right? He won't hurt him; he knows how I'd feel about that… he _has_ to know."

Coran's lips pursed into a tighter frown. "I would think he'd know how attacking Pollux would hurt you as well."

Haggar let out an exasperated sigh before Allura had the chance to respond. "And it would've done _so_ much for Doom's reputation to let Prince Bandor run wild balking us because Prince Lotor's wife would get upset. I'm sure the Drule Council would've loved that explanation. He explained the reasons for his retaliation on Pollux to Allura. She understands the political necessity of it." She turned to Allura. "That was why you specified that you didn't want anyone hurt unnecessarily when you left, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Allura said with a sad nod.

"You were okay with that?" Pidge asked the princess, shocked.

"No! I wasn't okay with it!" Allura protested. The flash of hurt she saw in Pidge's eyes was unbearable to her, and tears threatened to spill from hers once more. "I understood why Lotor needed to do it! I never_wanted_ him to do it!"

Pidge stood and stared hard at Allura. "Well don't let him hurt Hunk!" he pleaded, a note of desperation in his voice along with anger. "Make him let him go! Make him do at least that much!"

When she heard that, Haggar let out an incredulous squawk. "You have to be kidding. He's a political bargaining chip. There's no way he'll be released."

The former green lion pilot glared fiercely at the witch. "He's our friend!"

"Then I'm sorry he was foolish enough to stay in the line of fire—for the princess' sake," she retorted with a roll of her yellow eyes. "Whatever you choose to believe, boy, the universe is not black and white, good and evil, fluffy bunnies and bloodthirsty demons with no middle ground. Given the choice I'm sure Prince Lotor would rather it not be someone Princess Allura cares about that forces his hand on necessary political action. He's quite in love with the princess. I'd think that much was obvious given how they wound up married."

Allura gave Haggar an imploring look. "Hunk can't be harmed! We can stop him from being hurt, can't we? Where do you think Lotor is now? Let's try to call him." She rushed to the console.

Haggar joined the princess' side. "Lotor will do what he can if you insist, I'm reasonably sure of that. That said," she continued, looking pointedly into Allura's less jaded eyes, "it may not be Lotor's choice. Zarkon and the Drule Council won't take lightly to Pollux and the Galaxy Alliance balking them not once, but twice, and he's in no position politically to challenge them at the moment. And I'm sure I don't need to tell you that looking for sympathy from Zarkon isn't going to get you far whether you _or_ his son seek it. In your case, asking will probably make him inclined to make it worse."

The sinking feeling in the pit of Allura's stomach told her that Haggar was speaking honestly, and while she supposed she should be glad that the witch was actually trying to help, her words were of no comfort. "But I have to do something! Please," she implored. "Help me reach Lotor! Your magic… you can use it to communicate, right? Please, Haggar!"

The old witch sighed with resignation. "I'm getting too soft in my old age," she muttered irritably under her breath as she closed her eyes and sought to divine Lotor's whereabouts. Lotor owed her significantly for all of this, she thought, and she decided that as soon as they were back on Doom, she would insist that Cossack be put on "Arus duty" next time around.

* * *

Continued in Part Three


	3. Chapter 3

**_Act of War_  
****Part Three  
By Cheezey**

Although not as upset as his wife, Prince Lotor was not in the best of moods back on his home world either. Upon his return, he and Cossack had been summoned to Zarkon's throne room to give a report on their mission. As it stood, the king was not terribly impressed.

"So for all that, you still don't have the red lion?"

"No, Father." Lotor did his best to keep his tone respectful while attempting to hide his exasperation, but the attempt was failing. "The Galaxy Alliance showed up before the robeast could overpower it."

"But we got that yellow lion pilot as a hostage, and Prince Lotor told them—"

"Yes, I know what Lotor said," Zarkon said, sternly cutting off Cossack before he fixed his harsh gaze upon his son once more. "You gave them forty-eight hours to surrender the red lion or else Chunky or whatever his name is gets it."

"I think it's 'Hunk'…"

Zarkon turned sharply toward Cossack and glared at him in a way that made it clear that if the commander knew what was good for him, he would shut up and quit interrupting him with chatter. That time Cossack received the message loud and clear and lowered his head obediently while Zarkon resumed speaking to Lotor. "Well, the clock is ticking and last I heard, the red lion isn't on its way to Arus in a gift box and the Alliance is calling your bluff. Do you have a grand plan for following through, or did you not bother to think that far ahead as usual?"

The prince frowned. "Actually, I thought there was a chance he might do it, since they know how harming her friend would affect Allura. But if not, then unfortunately she'll find out the hard way how little her friends ultimately matter."

"And what's your plan for the punishment?" Zarkon leaned forward and tapped his scepter lightly.

Feeling free to speak once more, Cossack offered his suggestion. "The Pit of Skulls is a nice place for the Voltron Force."

"Indeed," Zarkon agreed, "but that's not going to get the sort of message we need across in this situation." Turning toward Lotor, he narrowed his eyes and addressed him again. "You've made quite a stink with the Galaxy Alliance. You and your pet princess and your little scuffle with Pollux have pretty much single-handedly annihilated any chance of lasting peace between them and the Drule Empire for some time. Their diplomats have taken this whole thing as a slap in the face, and the peace-mongers on the council have been calling me whining about it."

Lotor gave his father an incredulous look. "Do you think I care what the Alliance thinks?"

"Do you think I do either?" Zarkon retorted sarcastically. "There's a reason I hung up on Hazar when he griped at me about you 'undermining his efforts', and Throk is lucky that Merla agreed to deal with him on our behalf or I'd have hung up on him too when he called, the pompous idiot."

When Cossack heard that, his eyebrow rose; he had been wondering why Merla was not there, although he was certainly not complaining about her absence.

Lotor, meanwhile, frowned at his father. "So what are you saying then? That we have to do something to satisfy the Drule Council?"

"Yes. Hazar's whining aside, the majority of the Drules don't expect us to take Pollux's thievery of the red lion lying down, and it goes without saying that _I_ don't either." There was a savage gleam in the king's eyes as he spoke. "Laying waste to the castle was a good start, but we need to follow through and send the message loud and clear that any world that presumes to get one over on King Zarkon or planet Doom is going to get what's coming to them. I want Pollux conquered, its people subservient to us, and the world itself forcibly taken from Alliance control and put in ours. That's long-term. For the short term," he twirled his scepter before he pointed it down in Lotor's direction, "you can start by executing the yellow lion pilot in a very public spectacle, broadcast in full gory detail to Galaxy Garrison, when the red lion isn't turned over as I expect it won't be."

Lotor stood and nodded back at him. "Yes, Father."

At that time Cossack also stood, casting Lotor a curious sidelong glance as he did so, wondering how he was going to explain _that _one to Allura. Being a newlywed himself, Cossack was no expert on marital affairs, but given that his own wife had recently read him the riot act for merely suggesting something that tripped an emotional wire, he had a feeling that his prince was in for a long stay on the royal couch if he let Hunk meet such a fate.

"Cossack."

The commander faced Lotor when he addressed him. "Yes Sire?"

"I want you to send armed scout ships to Pollux immediately to assess the level of Galaxy Alliance presence still there. If they aren't outgunned, I want them to land and round up any surviving members of the Polluxian royalty and their court."

Cossack nodded. "Sure."

"And you'll deal with the yellow lion pilot swiftly and accordingly, Lotor?" Zarkon interjected. "I want to be there when it happens, and see his blood spilled myself."

"Of course, Father. You'll have a front row seat."

The stern look on Zarkon's face gave way to a sadistic grin that lit up his scaly face and bared his fangs. "Excellent! It'll be a treat to watch one of the Voltron Force dealt with once and for all." He settled back into his throne, relaxed. "You two are dismissed."

Lotor and Cossack each bowed, and exited the throne room together. Once they were out alone in the hall, Cossack could contain his curiosity no longer, and asked the question that had been burning ever since the issue had been raised in Zarkon's audience. "Uh, Prince Lotor?"

"What?"

"You know that Princess Allura is going to freak out if you kill her Voltron Force pal, right?"

"Yes," Lotor replied testily.

Cossack frowned. "I mean she's really going to have a fit, not just get a little mad and just sulk for a while like chicks tend to. Yeah, I know she's pretty forgiving and all, but if she wouldn't even let me shoot at her pals back when you first brought her here—"

"She's _my_ wife," Lotor snapped, giving Cossack a sharp glare as he did so. "I think I know her a little better than you do."

"Then with all due respect, Prince Lotor, how're you gonna handle this?" Cossack asked. "I don't think King Zarkon's going to back down about the execution thing."

Lotor continued down the dark corridor of the castle, seemingly unconcerned. "Lance still has time to turn over the red lion. If he does, then there won't be a need for the bloody spectacle. He'll remain unharmed, as I promised Allura."

Cossack kept pace beside him. "Uh-huh. And if he doesn't?"

"Then we go with a contingency plan."

"Oh." The commander relaxed somewhat, relieved to hear that Lotor had already thought of a way to resolve the issue. Although Cossack did not particularly care about Princess Allura's goody-two-shoes feelings, he did care about the effect her mood swings as Lotor's wife had upon him, both as Lotor's friend and more importantly because Lotor was the guy who gave him orders, orders that tended to get crazy when she was involved. "So what's the contingency plan?"

"We find a look-alike substitute among the prisoners or slaves and kill him in Hunk's place. Father will never know; he'll get his bloody execution show and the Drule Council will be satisfied. Allura will be told in confidence what really happened and be assured that her friend is alive safe and sound far away from this 'evil' place," Lotor explained, speaking as if the answer was quite simple and there was no flaw whatsoever in his brilliant thinking.

Cossack considered the logistics of Lotor's plan. "That could work. From a distance, any chunky human guy about that size with that coloring could be made to look like him without too much trouble." He gave Lotor an inquisitive look as he pondered it further. "So where are we gonna stick the real thing so that your father won't find him and the word won't get out? It'll be hard to keep him under wraps that way. If we gotta minimize security leaks, it'll be easier for him to get away and blab to everyone in the GA that it was all a scam. And if that happens King Zarkon will be _really_ pissed."

"That's for you to figure out," Lotor informed Cossack. "I'm leaving the disposal and security of our dirty little Voltron Force secret up to you."

The commander stopped dead in his tracks, wide-eyed in shock. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm entrusting you to take care of it. I'm sure you can find somewhere to stash him where you can keep your eye on him and make sure he doesn't get out and run his mouth, but also won't be harmed as per Allura's wishes." Lotor smirked. "Consider it your reward for your service and loyalty to me when I can't trust anyone else with vipers like Merla around this place. One of our most loathed enemies, a member of the Voltron Force, will be your personal slave."

Cossack's mind reeled at the potential implications of what he was being asked to do. "Thanks, Prince Lotor," he said, and then added, "Really I mean that, it's a great trophy. Well, except that I can't let anyone know, since people would recognize him… but what if he runs his mouth?" He frowned. "Sure, I know if he's my slave I can always beat him to keep him in line, but do you think Princess Allura would count me cutting his tongue out to keep him quiet 'unharmed'? And how'll I explain the similarity in looks or where he came from? If he's my slave, King Zarkon or Haggar at least are gonna see him. Not to mention Merla's mind-reading thing… she'll figure out who he is fast."

An impatient edge crept into Lotor's voice. "You're resourceful, Cossack. I'm sure you can think of something. Take him to your home. There are slaves at the Tonorm'oith estate, aren't there? It's up in the mountains, hard to flee on foot, and I imagine it wouldn't be too hard to force the other slaves to keep an eye on him or stress the importance of such a situation to your wife." Lotor looked down at the commander haughtily. "You two should be honored to be entrusted with such a secret from the royalty."

"Oh I _am_ honored, Sire!" Cossack assured Lotor, and then sighed as he began to explain his position. "But there's no way in the gods' galaxy that I can take a member of the Voltron Force for 'safe-keeping' at Kuryaki's estate. No way." Cossack shook his head vehemently. "She hates Voltron and everything related to him; the whole 'he-killed-my-baby' thing with her precious Yurak. I got a colder shoulder than the iciest frost planet in the galaxy for just volunteering her for the Arus rebuilding project because of that. Hunk'd be safer in a robeast pen than with her… and frankly so would I if I suggested it."

Lotor folded his arms across his chest and glowered down at Cossack, irritated to be meeting resistance over something that was, to him, utterly trivial. "I don't care about your domestic squabbles. I gave you an order and I expect you to follow it! Find the substitute and see to it that Allura's friend is kept safe, unharmed, and secret. I don't care how you do it, just make sure you do! Am I making myself clear?"

Cossack could tell that any further protest would only result in the prince sending him to the robeast pen instead of his wife doing so, so he simply gave a resigned nod. "Crystal, Sire." He looked down the hall glumly. "I'll think of something."

"Good." Lotor's mood, on the other hand, improved considerably with Cossack's compliance. "I knew I could count on you." He resumed walking down the hall.

The commander followed and fell in step beside him. "'Course you can." A frown crept across his features as he tried to figure out a way to handle the task that had been posed to him. "But I gotta say you owe me one for this."

Lotor flashed him an incredulous look. "I owe _you_? You're lucky I like you, Cossack," he said dryly. "I wouldn't tolerate that kind of presumptuousness from just anyone."

"Sorry Sire," Cossack replied flatly. "It's just not gonna be easy to pull off."

"Oh quit your whining!" Lotor snapped, his patience worn almost to its limit. "Look, I'll give you a few days off after this is all settled before I send you back to deal with Pollux if you just shut up and take care of it! If you don't, I'll set Hunk free myself, tell Father that you did it, and let you deal with _him _instead!"

"Okay, okay!" It was clear that Cossack was still not thrilled, but he knew better than to test Lotor's limits farther, and the promise of some rest and relaxation in the near future for his trouble was motivation to do as his liege asked. "I won't bring it up again," he assured Lotor. "Mum's the word! I'll just get it done, nice and easy, and quit talking about it! No problem!"

Lotor's brow rose. "Cossack."

"Yes Prince Lotor?"

"You're still talking."

A sheepish smile crept across the commander's face. "Shutting up, Sire."

* * *

There were less than twenty-four hours left before Lotor's ultimatum deadline when the red lion landed on the quiet and remote world of Caspia. A camouflaged hangar door had opened to receive him once he had entered the planet's airspace; those in charge of the base that lay beneath the ground had been expecting his arrival.

"Welcome, Lance," the scientist Marianne greeted him in a friendly manner as he disembarked.

"Thanks," he replied warmly, an uneasy feeling settling over him as he walked over to meet her. It was not that he was uncomfortable with Marianne herself or anyone that worked in the underground laboratory with her, they were all his allies, but rather it was the memories of his last visit to Caspia that nagged at him. Although that had involved a scuffle with Doom and a nasty battle with robots that Marianne herself had refused to help them with due to her personal and rather vehement dislike of violence, all of that had since been resolved and Lance held no grudges over any of it. What soured his mood about that place in particular was the reminder that the last time he had been there, it had been as part of a team of friends that he loved and trusted without question—a team that had since been shattered apart and friends he felt like had lost forever.

Lance did his best shove the painful nostalgia to the back of his mind and forced a smile. "I really appreciate you helping me out. I knew if anyone could fix up a couple of battle scars on the red lion quick and get it ready for a rescue mission, it'd be you."

"I wish we didn't have to keep perpetuating this war," Marianne said with a rueful smile. "But you and your friends have done a lot for the people of the galaxy." She put a hand on his shoulder. "And I'm so sorry for your friends on Pollux. They're in my prayers, as is your friend Hunk. He was such a kind-hearted fellow."

"He still is, if we can get him away from those Doom creeps in time." Lance looked up urgently at his lion. "You think you can get this cat souped up fast enough for me to get to Doom before Lotor makes good on his threat?"

Marianne pushed her long auburn ponytail over her shoulder and gave the lion an evaluating once-over. "I think so. It doesn't look it was damaged too badly; probably just needs some patching. Me and my assistants and my tech robots—they're very efficient—we'll get to work on it right away."

Lance flashed her a grateful smile. "Great! I owe you one." He stepped back and took a look around the bay while Marianne examined the red lion. He noticed another impressive fighting ship farther down the hold, one he had seen before not long after the first time he had been on Caspia, a dark grey and black winged fighter ship with a felinoid shape.

"Hey!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Is that who I think it is?"

Rising briefly from where she had been kneeling by the base of the red lion's tail, Marianne answered, "Yes. Stride made it here a few hours ago. Your friend Keith used some connections at Galaxy Garrison to find out where he was and got the message to him to get in touch with Omnia on Zaul."

"Yeah, I talked to Joran last night and he was the one who told me that it'd be safe to head here and that you'd be around. Right before I talked to you, actually."

"Omnia passed the word on to him that you needed help with a rescue mission," Marianne explained. "Stride is still quite disgusted with Zarkon—not that I can blame him—so he was glad to help you and your friends."

"Where is he?" Lance asked. He figured that the less he talked about his intentions on Doom in front of Marianne, the better. Although he knew that she understood that in this situation violence was a necessary evil, he also did not want to go on about it in front of her out of respect to her beliefs, especially when he knew that she had to feel conflicted about fixing a craft that was essentially a war machine. That and time was tight, so the less distraction he gave the scientist, the more time she would have to work on the red lion.

She pointed to a stairwell on the north end of the hangar. "Head up that way and you'll probably find him in one of the rooms on the far end toward the left. There's a kitchen and lounge there. He asked for something to eat a while ago. Help yourself while you're there if you want, and feel free to sleep too if you need to. We'll be working down here a few hours at least."

"Thanks. Catch you later!" Lance called out and headed up the stairs. Marianne gave him a brief wave in parting before she returned her attention to the red lion.

* * *

Lotor had only been back in his quarters for about a minute when he noticed that the crystal on a pedestal in the corner—a private magical communication port that was in each of the royal quarters for Haggar to use to speak with them—was aglow, signifying that the old witch was trying to contact him. Knowing that she was with Allura, that was Lotor's immediate concern, and he was relieved that when he looked into the orb he saw both of their faces there, Allura's somewhat distraught, but otherwise fine.

"Allura, Haggar… I see you made it to Arus safely. I'm glad."

"Lotor! We just heard about Pollux!" Allura exclaimed. "What happened?" She paused and added in a softened tone, "I see you're all right at least… but why did you do what you did to Castle Pollux? And Hunk? Where is Hunk? Is he safe?"

Lotor could not hide his disappointment at Allura's reaction, although on some level he had expected something like it, especially knowing that those in the Castle of Lions save Haggar had undoubtedly painted his role in the most unflattering light possible out of spite. Lotor had been dreading the inevitable explanation of what had happened on Pollux to Allura, and while he did take it as promising that she had at least acknowledged his well-being, the part of him that craved her full and undivided love wished that Allura had placed more emphasis on that than on her miserable friends. Still, Lotor supposed it was better than her turning against him altogether, and he remained confident that her priorities would sort appropriately to him in time. "Your friend is alive," Lotor assured Allura. "He resisted capture and was wounded in the leg, but I had our medical team tend to him." That was the truth; he had ordered Hunk's wounds treated since his intent was to keep the yellow lion pilot alive for Allura's sake. Such displays of mercy went against Lotor's grain, but it was for Allura, tangible proof for her to see just how much he loved her, so he did it anyway.

Allura leaned closer to the crystal. "Coran said that you told everyone you were going to kill Hunk if Lance didn't turn the red lion over. Please promise me you won't do that, even if he doesn't! Promise me, Lotor!" She was pleading, although there was a fierce note of demand in that plea, and the look in her watery eyes when she spoke made it clear to Lotor that if he disregarded it, any love she had for him in her heart would die on the spot.

"I'm doing what I can, Allura," Lotor told her earnestly. He hoped she would understand how much he was indeed doing for her benefit, for her love, and the efforts he was going through to keep her pilot friend alive. There was certainly no one else in the universe that he would go to such lengths for, other than himself.

Haggar then chose to speak up. "You know that Zarkon will expect you to keep your word."

"_Promise_ me, Lotor," Allura emphasized from beside the witch.

"I won't harm your friend. I promise," Lotor told Allura, and then added, "but I can't just let him go. It's a political issue now. As a fellow ruler, you know that such matters aren't cut and dried. I can promise you that he won't be harmed, but that's it."

"Hmm, I wonder what Zarkon will think of your promise," Haggar mused, and fixed her yellow eyes on Lotor in such a piercing stare that even through the crystal and the distance of space it made him wince.

Both her look and her tone irritated Lotor. "If you know what's good for you, old witch, you'll stay out of it! I'll keep things sorted out with my father and for the good of the empire. That's not your job." His tone was heavy with implicit threat.

Haggar in turn was not impressed with the prince's snide reply. "Let me guess," she said sarcastically. "You've got some sort of elaborate ruse and deception planned to pull the wool over your father's and Merla's and the whole Drule Empire and Galaxy Alliances' eyes to save face with them and keep your wife happy at the same time." She made a disgusted face. "You're so predictable and arrogant, taking the same chances over and over again, and for what? Love? Fool." She turned briefly to Allura. "No offense meant to you personally of course, Princess."

Allura did not have the chance to indicate whether she took offense or not before Lotor fired back an angry retort to the old witch, who had clearly struck a nerve. "I'm not going to warn you again! Stay out of it, Haggar!"

Haggar's cracked lips parted into a sneer, showing the tips of her fangs. "Hah. I wouldn't touch this mess with a ten-foot magic staff. By all means, play your little game. I won't say a word to Zarkon. It'll be amusing to see how long you can pull it off. Just don't come crying to me when it blows up in your face."

When Haggar fell silent, Allura spoke up again, looking at Lotor in a way that got to him on nearly every level possible. "Lotor, you promise that you won't hurt Hunk no matter what?"

Looking back through the crystal at her lovely face, so distraught, Lotor wished that he was with her in person to caress it and allay her fears with softly spoken words and warm, passionate kisses. "I promise," he reiterated.

It seemed that she believed in his sincerity that time, and her face softened to its more natural, gentle look. "Thank you," Allura said softly. "I'll talk more with you when you get back. Then you can tell me yourself what happened on Pollux… and why."

Although Lotor was sure that conversation would not be pleasant one either, he still felt his desire to return to Arus resurge in spades. In person he could explain everything to Allura so much better, alone and without a heckling, bitter old witch or nosy busybodies from the Castle of Lions interrupting with their unsolicited opinions. He imagined a fond reunion with Allura in the privacy of their bedchamber where he would tell her his account, make her truly understand as he did _why_ Pollux deserved all that they had gotten, and why the Voltron Force was a part of her life best left behind when her future was with him. He envisioned her sweet face before him, eyes shining with understanding as it finished, and making love to her afterward with vigor as he had on their wedding night. "I'll return as soon as I can," he said after a long moment of indulging in the fantasy. "I love you, Allura."

She smiled back at him, a wan smile, but one that Lotor still believed held genuine love for him that she would soon be able to not only acknowledge, but embrace as he did. "I'll see you soon, Lotor."

The image then faded from the crystal, the call over, but Lotor remained beside the orb for several moments after the glow within it died down. The time to return to Arus could not come soon enough for his liking.

Before he could do that, however, there were still things to be done. The deadline he had imposed for the red lion to be turned over was fast approaching. Withdrawing his hand from the crystal's surface, Lotor turned abruptly and went to see to it that those things were taken care of as efficiently as possible.

* * *

When Allura and Haggar rejoined Pidge and Coran after speaking with Lotor they were met with expectant looks. "So what did he say?" Pidge asked as they approached.

"I trust he gave you very good reason for his brutal invasion of Pollux?" Coran added, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone.

Allura frowned. "I asked him to explain that to me in person. He can tell me about what's already done and over with then, when I can see his face up close and tell whether he's telling me the truth."

Pidge let out an incredulous snort. "I got an easy way to tell if Lotor's lying: his lips are moving."

Despite its source, Pidge's remark inspired a poorly stifled cackle from Haggar, but Coran did not acknowledge either and remained dour as ever. Allura's frown, meanwhile, deepened. "I know his track record, but I do believe him when he says he doesn't want to hurt me. There is another side to Lotor. I've seen it. I believe he loves me in the way that he can."

Coran shook his head and let out a beleaguered sigh. "Tell me then, Allura, why does he continually hurt you?"

"It's not that simple, Coran."

"His 'love' also doesn't excuse him invading Pollux against your wishes, what he's done to this world—"

"We're going to rebuild Arus, Coran!" Allura, now growing angry and defensive, asserted. "The war's over now. We've already got plans in place and funding from people in the Drule Empire that'll help our people and rebuild things that were destroyed in the war. We've been over this!"

"And what about what he did on Pollux? To Prince Bandor, Princess Romelle, Sven?" Coran countered. "Not to mention the Voltron Force?"

"What _did_ he say about Hunk, Princess?" Pidge interjected.

Glad that Pidge had provided the perfect opening to derail an argument with Coran, Allura turned toward her young friend to answer. "He promised me that Hunk wouldn't be hurt. I made him specifically promise, and made it very clear exactly what I meant. I think he really meant it when he said he wouldn't allow Hunk to be harmed."

Pidge blinked. "He promised." He was not exactly challenging Allura's statement, but it was clear that he was not convinced by it either.

Coran, however, was more overtly skeptical. "Do you really think that when the red lion isn't turned over, that he'll keep that promise? As Haggar herself pointed out earlier," he gestured to the witch, "he's become a political pawn. A ruthless organization like the Drule Empire isn't going to allow a perceived weakness by not carrying out such a threat once it's been made."

"Oh don't worry, Lotor has a _plan_," Haggar chimed in with sarcasm of her own.

Looking from Haggar to Allura, Pidge asked, "A plan?"

"I think he's going to do something to make it look like Hunk was," Allura winced slightly, unable to bring herself to speak of Hunk's intended fate in more explicit detail, "dealt with. But he really won't be… although I'm sure that'll have to be kept among us, so please don't say anything to anyone outside this room."

"Nobody outside this room?" Pidge echoed. "But what about Keith? And Sven and Romelle if they turn out to be okay?" He did not mention Lance, although he thought about him as well, but he knew better than to bring up the name. "They're going to want to know Hunk's alive. I don't want to see them go through thinking he's dead if he isn't, just like I wouldn't!"

Allura put a hand on Pidge's shoulder and looked earnestly into his young eyes. "Pidge, I don't like it either. But right now it's the only way. The political ramifications… it's so complicated." She sighed wearily and tried to resume a more optimistic tone. "We'll figure something out, when things settle. For now, Lotor's promised me he'll stay safe. When things straighten out and Lotor tells me where he is, we can figure out how to help him." She cast her glance downward, her heart already heavy with regret. "And hope everyone that loves him doesn't suffer unnecessary grief too long before we can set it right."

Coran shook his head in disbelief. "Lotor presumes to fool not only his father—a shrewd man in his own right, giving the devil his due—but also the entire Drule Empire _and_the Galaxy Alliance? Your husband's overconfidence and arrogance is astounding, Princess, if he is indeed telling the truth."

"Modesty was never one of Lotor's flaws," Haggar remarked wryly.

Looking down at the edge of the console, Pidge mulled over everything he had just been told. Trusting Lotor was counter-intuitive, but none of the other options were any more attractive and they all involved real and deadly risk to someone he cared about very much. "I gotta say I really don't like this, Princess. How safe can Hunk be on Doom, even if they don't execute him? You really think we can trust Lotor? I mean, how will we know he's telling the truth?"

"We won't," Coran said simply. "At least not without some sort of proof."

Allura nodded. "I know. I'll make sure he gives it to us."

* * *

The clanking sound of the lock and the heavy metal door creaking open made the imprisoned Hunk sit bolt upright from his miserable slouched position in the cell. He was not sure how long it had been since he was put in there, although it felt like it had been at least a day.

After he had been taken prisoner and brought onto the Doom ship, Hunk had been separated almost right away from the other prisoners and chained up alone. He had heard the guards that manhandled him refer to him as an "important prisoner" and that had meant extra security and little chance of escape, even if he had been uninjured and not barely able to walk with his thigh wounded as it was. Once they arrived back on Doom, some soldier of a rank of importance had some robots take him to a medical facility to dress the painful laser wound. The trek through the corridors on it had been miserable; it had throbbed something fierce with every step he took. Hunk did not know why the Doomites were treating him, but he was sure it was not for any altruistic purpose. Most likely they did it either because they planned to put him to heavy slave labor or wanted him to fight in the arena and put on a good show. A part of him had wanted to refuse on principle, but he was in enough pain that when the medic put a salve on his wound, bound it, and shot him full of painkillers he did not have it in him to object. At least when they had then put him in the dark and dank cell in the bowels of Castle Doom afterward, Hunk had enough narcotic in his system to not only not feel any pain, but also to feel lightheaded and sleepy and make the experience seem surreal, at least for a little while.

The strongest effects had worn off, however, and Hunk was now a bit jumpy as his system sought to throw off the groggy feeling. It did not ease his anxiety at all when he saw who it was that had come into his cell, either. Standing above him with his arms folded and clutching an electrolash—the same one that had given him the stinging burns on his arm—was none other than the Doom commander that had captured him, Cossack the Terrible.

"Enjoying your new digs, flyboy?" he sneered.

Hunk scowled back at Cossack and tensed in anticipation of whatever awaited him. It was a given that it would not be pleasant. "What do you want?"

"Just a little inspection, that's all." Cossack beckoned for a couple of robot guards to enter. "Lift him up so I can get a good look at him. And I hope you've had your hydraulics overhauled recently, 'cause he's no light load."

The former Voltron force pilot grimaced while two robots came in and roughly hauled him to a standing position. Hunk struggled a little, more out of defiance and indignation than anything else, but it was pointless and he did not bother for more than a moment. He did let out a grunt of aggravation, however, when Cossack shined a flashlight obnoxiously into his eyes.

"Brown. That's what I thought. Pretty generic human coloring. Good." He moved the flashlight along the length of his body and stopped at his injured thigh. "Left side, bandages wrap all around, looks to be covering at least a six inch area. Got it." He glanced at the robots. "Any other defining scars or tattoos?"

One of the robots thrust Hunk's forearm out toward Cossack, with no regard to the way that their metallic fingers scraped and pressed into the electrolash burns, which hurt him quite a bit even through the painkillers. "Slave tattoo, Commander," the robot told Cossack. "An old one."

Cossack leaned over and took a look at it under the light of the flashlight. "Ah, yeah, probably from when you were captured as a space explorer way back when. Your first visit here." He sneered. "Boy did Yurak get his ass reamed out for you and your pals escaping. But since I always thought he was kind of an asshole, I laughed anyway. 'Course it helps that I was assigned off planet at the time so I wasn't involved." He let out an amused chortle at the memory before resuming a more serious tone. "But security's gotten a little better around here after years of putting up with Voltron, so don't get any bright ideas this time. There's a reason you're in solitary, and we've got special plans for you."

Hunk's glower deepened as the robots twisted him to the side at Cossack's direction and the commander ran the bright flashlight over his profile again. "Whatever you're up to, you're not getting it from me without a fight," Hunk protested with what energy he could muster. He let out a pained grunt when the robots, finished with him for the time being, tossed him back against the wall of the cell. "Allura'll never forgive Lotor for what he did. She might be married to him, but she'll hate him forever for what he did on Pollux to her friends."

"Friends that shot at her?" Cossack retorted. "I dunno, I'm not a goody-goody happy princess, but I don't think even if I was a 'nice girl' like her I'd get over her being fired at by my friends after they stole my ship anytime soon."

"You know damn well it wasn't her that Bandor fired at!" Hunk said contemptuously.

Cossack shrugged as if that fact was unimportant. "It didn't seem to bother him much that she was standing next to his target though. But yeah, you're probably right that she'll be ruffled about what went down when we went back to teach Prince Shorty a lesson." He flashed Hunk a cocky, insincere smile that showed his fangs. "You know, you should thank her. She's why you're getting the VIP treatment. Lotor's going out of his way to make it up to her. All things considered, I think those two'll do just fine. Sorry to disappoint you."

The ominous feelings Hunk had earlier about his fate resurfaced at the mention of his "VIP treatment." Despite what Cossack had said, Hunk had a feeling that what was happening to him had next to nothing to do with anything Allura would have asked for on his behalf. Hunk might not have understood the decisions Allura had made as of late, but his faith in the kind of person she was in her heart had not wavered. "VIP treatment?" Hunk repeated incredulously. "I'd hate to see what you call standard."

Sneering back at him from the doorway Cossack replied, "For losers like the Voltron Force? It's called the Pit of Skulls. Boy, you really are thick! Haggar was right; it really must _have_ been dumb luck and divine intervention that kept you with the upper hand for so long." Cossack then disappeared through the door, cape billowing behind him, and slammed it, leaving Hunk alone to wonder just what that strange encounter had been all about, and what was still in store for him.

* * *

Sitting high on his throne, a devilish and gleeful smile lit up the harsh scaled features of King Zarkon the likes of which had not been seen by his court members in years as he watched the last few seconds tick by on his timepiece. The golden skull-shaped instrument with flashing red numbers in the mouth was one he had specifically set to synchronize with Lotor's deadline for the red lion to be turned over. As the little alarm sounded—a shrill electronic shriek that reminded him of the time a heavy robot stepped on Coba's tail—Zarkon's reptilian eyes sparkled with smug malevolence and joy akin to the enthusiasm of one might see in a hopelessly love-struck schoolgirl fantasizing about a rendezvous with her lover. In truth there was the same level of passion behind the feeling and to Zarkon it was an equally romantic fantasy being realized. What was there not for him to love about bearing personal witness to the grisly demise of one of the Voltron Force? It was truly a red-letter day, one that would soon get redder by the spilling of the yellow lion pilot's blood.

The throne room doors opened and Lotor stepped in, answering the summons Zarkon had sent shortly before. "Father," he greeted him with a bow.

"Ah Lotor!" Zarkon's smile broadened as he addressed his son. "Do you know what time it is?"

Lotor nodded. "I do."

The king twirled his scepter in dark joviality. "It's forty-eight hours and," he glanced down at his skull stopwatch, "forty-eight seconds past your deadline." He chortled. "Isn't that an interesting coincidence?" He slid the timepiece into a pocket in his robe. "Has the red lion been turned over?"

"No Father, it has not." It was hard to tell from Lotor's rather neutral tone whether he was pleased by that or not.

"And has the pilot or anyone else from the Voltron Force, Pollux, or Galaxy Garrison contacted you to make arrangements to turn it over? To save their _beloved_friend?" He accented the stressed word with a facial expression that made his gleeful sarcasm that much clearer.

"No, Father." That time, if one looked closely, one could see a dark gleam in Lotor's eyes that bore a similarity to his father's, albeit far better contained.

"What a shame." Zarkon gave a mock frown. "I guess this means that my poor daughter-in-law will find out the hard way how little her oh-so-loyal friends think of her feelings."

"A pity that she has to endure that," Lotor echoed. A dark smirk tugged at his lips; Zarkon's enthusiasm was contagious. It was almost enough to make Lotor want to pretend he had never promised Allura that Hunk would not be harmed. Fortunately for Allura—not to mention Hunk—securing her affection was stronger motivation than a laugh with his father.

"Indeed," Zarkon said wryly. "Merla and I will have to send her some flowers with our condolences." The king lapsed into a momentary frown. "It is a shame Merla couldn't be here herself to enjoy our victory. It figures that whiner Hazar would manage to put a damper on our fun enough that she had to go explain our position to the Drule Council in person. Even on Dreska, that man's a pain in the ass." He shook his head in disappointment, and then held up his hand, bearing both the gold ring he had worn for countless years as well as the one Haggar had forged for him recently that prevented Merla from manipulating him with her mind powers. "But now is not the time to dwell on such annoyances, not with our victorious celebration at hand," he said with renewed enthusiasm, and turned to some servants nearby. "Some drinks?"

"Yes sire," the slaves murmured, and scurried to fetch wine goblets for their masters while Zarkon resumed speaking.

"I want every high ranking military officer, noble, priest, and dignitary that's physically close enough to attend assembled in this room within the hour. The execution will take place right here, right at my throne-step." He pointed his scepter at the base where Lotor knelt. "It will be broadcast live, on every satellite frequency we can take over, so that every self-respecting Doomite, Drule-blood, and Denubian, and every Alliance fool and wanna-be rebel sees firsthand what it means to defy the might of our empire."

Lotor nodded obligingly. "Yes Father."

The king of Doom then raised the goblet that had just been placed in his hands as a sinister and complacent smile settled upon his features. "And until then, a toast—to victory! To the obliteration of Pollux, to the humbling of the Alliance, to the annihilation of the Voltron Force, and most importantly, to Doom!"

"To Doom!" Lotor echoed, lifting his goblet in tandem, and joined his father in a drink and a round of victorious laughter.

**The End**


End file.
